Give Up, Give In
by Remington Rand
Summary: Derek needs Casey, and the realization opens something like Pandora's box in his head. Dasey. T for mature themes. (This is the revised and expanded version of the previously-published Verisimilitude and Veracity. Read preface for details on chapter structure, future plans, and more.)
1. Preface

**Preface **

This is the revised version of the original story "Versimilitude" and its sequel, "Veracity".

It has undergone substantial changes but follows most of the original concepts for the storylines fairly closely.

It is broken up in parts to refer to the original stories:

Part 1 – Need

Part 2 –Versimilitude

Part 3—Veracity

Additions:

The beginning of the story is based on the one-shot, "Need" to create a better story of origin.

The end of the story is quite different than what was seen in "Veracity".

Story Timeline:

The timeline references episodes from seasons 2 and 3, dismisses part of season 3 and season 4 (e.g., no Truman, no Sally), as well as the film.

Current events are also referenced, therefore implying that the story isn't meant to take place when episodes originally aired.

Upcoming plans:

There is a companion fic I am planning alongside that will be Lizzie-centric and extend past the ending we see here, but "Give Up, Give In" is meant to be able to stand on its own just as well.

I hope you enjoy the read, and please review!

-R


	2. Part 1, Chapter 1

**Part 1**

"Face it, McDonald," Derek says between angered breaths, "You _need _me! Why else would you interfere so goddamn much in my life!"

Casey's snarly quickly morphed into one of coolness. "You deserve to be grounded for what you did. I don't _need _you, _Venturi_. I've never needed you. Without me in your life you'd have no one to belittle, no one to prank, no one to _hate._"

There was a silence as carbon dioxide was expelled, and oxygen taken in.

"I'm done with you, Derek."

With that final word uttered, she whipped around and slammed her bedroom door in his face.

"Fine with me, Princess!" Derek called, storming off into his own space and slamming the door hard enough to make the walls quake.

Alone in his room, Derek plopped down on his bed and wondered why his stomach felt queasy. He could ignore Casey. It's not like they had heart-to-hearts anyway.

Stupid Casey. It was not his fault her precious Max tripped and fell. Anyone could have tripped over his shoe like that.

Okay, so the guy broke his nose. So what? He was gonna live…and not be on the team for a few weeks.

And _maybe_ Derek had kinda stuck his foot out on purpose because he saw the guy talking to Casey and she looked too close for comfort. They were supposed to be broken up.

Whatever, the fact was, he hated him and it was almost instinct at this point to mess with him.

But Derek's done this shit before, and Casey's always gotten over it.

She'd forget all about her recent pact in a week and beg him to babysit or cover her night for the dishes. Typical caught-up Casey.

It was just terms. Words.

Nothing was gonna change.

Really.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Morning, mom," Casey said cheerfully, as she flipped over the bacon in the pan, "I made breakfast."

"Well, this is nice." Her mother replied, taking a seat at the table and sipping from the coffee mug.

When Derek smelled the bacon, he ran down the stairs. And sure enough, in all its glory, it laid piled high on a plate.

"Thanks Nora," Derek said, shoving his mouth full of pork.

"Don't thank me. Thank Casey."

Derek puts a pause on his gluttony for a moment, and looked at her. She didn't bother meeting his gaze.

"Thanks, Spacey."

"You're welcome, Derek." She said this calmly as she cut her pancakes into small pieces. Casey was one of those odd people that ate pancakes plain. He'd never understood that about her. Well, he didn't understand a lot of things about her.

She made small talk with Nora. Chats about the weather, about school, about Emily.

But no matter how many disparaging remarks he shoots back, she doesn't even look at him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

At first Derek kind of enjoyed Casey's non-role in his life. He got the TV all to himself, turned on the music loud without getting one word from his usual pain in the ass.

He made remarks about girls, about life in general, really, without having to listen to her incessant lecturing.

It's sort of like living the bachelor life all over again, except better because he still gets the good food.

He even got to drive himself to school. He leaves whenever he wants, gets home whenever he wants.

Skipping school has never been so easy.

And Casey just took the bus without complaining about the four block walk in the rain, or mud, or whatever unfortunate weather she had to encounter that day.

Casey is still annoying brainiac Casey in class, but she stopped commenting on his arriving fashionably late or failing two big tests.

Life without Casey McDonald is _sweet._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He saw Casey flirting with one of the poetry nerds at her locker (she's so predictable, really—how many women do the hair flip?).

"Hey," Derek said, clamping a hand on the skinny guy's shoulder, "Date someone who'll make you a little bit more popular. 'Cause she's just gonna drag you down, man."

"Uh." Nerd Guy mumbles eloquently.

Casey just flashed the guy a too-white smile and says, "Feel free to email me for help, okay?"

And then she just walked away as though he hadn't been there at all.

Derek ran up to her. "Case, come on, you can't just ignore me your whole life. We live together!"

"I'm not ignoring you, Derek," She said, staring straight in his eyes, "I already told you."

"Told me what?"

"I'm done."

He doesn't follow her when she left him behind.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Now, Derek by all means was not a desperate man. He's never had to be. Most things come easily to him. Except this weird rash on his back that he _absolutely _cannot reach without the aid of a broom handle.

Anyway, there's a way out of this mess.

Wait, life without Casey is a dream. Not a mess.

Shut up brain, Derek thought, I've done quite well without you.

I just need…food! Yeah, food, and sleep.

A good protein-rich sandwich and a nap is all I need.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He had to drag himself to school.

"You look terrible, dude." Sam said, slapping him on the back.

Derek winced. "I got hit by a bike."

"A bike? How did you—"

"_I don't know!" _Derek snaps, and storms away.

He was an absolute mess. Tuesday the Prince stopped working and he had to walk to school because he was already late. Wednesday he realized his laundry hadn't been brought down for the wash and he was effectively out of clean clothes. And then today, Thursday, he happened to be walking within a pedestrian zone and some jackass literally runs him over.

Casey, on the other hand, is doing _just _fine. She's been making friends. And got asked out seven times in one day! Who gets asked out that much?

Except him, of course.

Somewhere between first and second period, after sustaining injury from a wayward soccerball in the hall, two detentions, and numerous comments on his appearance, Derek realized Casey's swapped places with him.

He hasn't been able to sleep without dreaming of her.

It's a little sick, really, how obsessed he is with her, watching her from afar at lunch while Sam and Ralph make fun of the odd bruise on his forehead.

Casey needs to talk to him. He needs to argue with her, piss her off, push and pull with her on a daily basis.

He didn't know what to do with this excess energy.

What did he do without Casey?

He couldn't remember.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As she left her fifth period class, he grabbed her arm, taking her outside, holding her in place with hands on either side of her arms while he tried to get his thoughts together.

Oddly, Casey has nothing to say to this. She simply glanced down at his hands, feeling the warmth beneath her sleeves, and watched him mimic a fish.

"Casey…"

Cue raised eyebrow.

"Talk to me! Tell me I'm an idiot, or…or…a pig, or insult my intelligence, tell me I'm a jackass that needs to grow up, just say _something!"_

Casey just looked at him.

"This last week," he says, in a tilted whisper, "has been hell. And…and…I need you to fix it, Casey."

"First of all, calling you an idiot and then insulting your intelligence is redundant." Casey said, looking out at the parking lot. It was getting difficult, feeling him so close. She didn't know why.

Quickly coming to her senses, she continued. "Second of all, I don't need to fix anything, because I didn't _break _anything."

Derek pointed a finger in her face. "Yes…! Yes, you did!"

Casey crossed her arms, shaking away his other hand. His gesture was attracting attention to his eyes and the way they lit up the way she wished Max's had when he looked at her.

"You…" he began, drawing out the final syllable of the word, "You stopped being Casey and you broke our push-and-pull thing. And…and…it's just not right, Casey. We're supposed to argue and..and…tell each other we hate the other."

"I never told you I hated you. I don't hate you, Derek." She responded simply. It was true, she didn't. The stirring in her stomach when she looked at him didn't seem like hate. Or disgust, like she used to tell herself.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I don't hate you. I was wrong, Casey. I need you more than you need me. I need you to yell at me when I miss class, I need you to do all of your annoying Casey things because it's not the same without you."

The words made her feel cold. She didn't expect that. He watched her as she regarded him silently, fighting a smile, seemingly basking in the ego boost. "Yeah?"

He let out a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, Case."

"I guess I kinda missed you too," she said, the smile growing on her face.

They headed back into the school side-by-side, entering their classroom. His hand brushed hers.

She sat in front of him. Halfway through the lesson, he poked her with his pencil.

"_De-rek!"_

Music to his ears.


	3. Chapter 2

While it's good he and Casey are back to their usual squabbles, Derek felt like things weren't actually the same.

Possibly because he may or may not have had a dream about making out with his stepsister.

And possibly because he found himself thinking about it more and more now.

It was going beyond the morbid curiosity he told himself it was initially. He actually wants Casey, of all the girls in the city, he wants her.

And when he watches as Max hones in again, seeing Casey on the stairs, presumably to try to get on her good side, he can't stand it anymore.

He marches over, gets in his face, and mutters darkly, "Back off, she doesn't want anything to do with you."

Which is true. It has to be.

Max looked like he was going to start something until Casey spied them through the throng of students. She appeared beside them, lips in a thin line. "Something wrong?"

"No, no." Max said, hands up, "Nothing."

Derek watched him leave with satisfaction. Casey watched Derek, saw it on his face. She was confused. What was going on? She stepped to face him, bringing his eyes to her.

"Care to let me in on what that was about?" The girl asked with a sigh, blue eyes searching his.

"Nope." Derek muttered, parting from her by slipping past a group of students.

This was not good. Not good at all.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Derek purposefully avoids her for the rest of the day. But he can't break curfew, and she knows that. He gives in and goes home. She isn't in the family room, nor the kitchen, and he supposes she's studying.

_Good, maybe it means she'll leave me alone,_ he thinks as he trudges up to his room, pushing his door open.

And there's Casey, studying all right, but on his bed.

Those were two things he didn't mind together, but he had to crush the scenarios his mind was bringing up.

Kissing Casey. Tasting her neck. Touching her skin.

Yeah, those, those needed to stop. He focused on the stack of books on his bed, pretending to read the spines before asking, "What are you doing here?"

She sat up, a strand of her dark hair falling into her face as she did so. Derek had the urge to tuck it behind her ear. Dammit, he was supposed to be looking at the books. He looked down, catching the outfit she wore. Great, she was wearing a tank top. It ensured his imagination was accurate.

Seemingly unaware of his thoughts, she said, "I wanted to talk to you about today. About Max."

He frowned. "Look, Space Case, if you want to get back together with him and waste your time, fine. Thanks for the update on Things Derek Doesn't Care About."

Casey was quiet for a moment. "Do you really?"

Derek was getting irritated now, which was convenient, really—it kept him from focusing too much on the fact that she was on his bed. "What? Is this really necessary right now, Case? Did you run out of people to listen to your neurotic listing of the pros and cons what you should do about your sad lack of a love life? Well, I'm not listening."

That made her angry. "Fine, here's a con, no, in fact, here's two, you ready?" She stood up and growled, "One: he's my stepbrother, and even worse, he's a complete jerk!"

A dumbfounded Derek was a rare sight, but she had managed it. The girl's patience had run out however, and she picked up her books, brushing past him. The door slammed.

The sound seemed to knock him out of his stupor. Adrenaline hit him next, and he found himself in her room, ignoring the way she said his name as he slammed her door in his haste, and put one hand roughly on her cheek, pulling her forward, his lips clashing harshly.

Drawing back didn't really occur to her. She rose to her feet to shorten the distance. It was like there was this sudden itch, this craving, was being satisfied right then and she couldn't stop herself. She put one hand on his back, fingernails curling into him, the other finding its way on his neck, into his hair.

He responded by moving his hand from her cheek, using both hands to roam along her arms. She smelled like vanilla, tasted like strawberry-flavored chapstick.

There had been other girls. But this was different. She was different. No one had made him want to touch her as much as she did. No one had made him feel this out of control.

The sound of a cell phone ringing distracted them. Casey pulled her face away from his, panting, lips red, looking like she'd just realized what they'd done.

Derek stared at her, aware of her hands on him, aware of the way his fingers gripped her arms. He wanted to say to ignore the phone, to let him kiss her again, to ignore the thoughts and panic rising within him.

But instead he released her, pulling away from her touch, mumbling, "Sorry," before bolting out the door.

The eldest Venturi couldn't stay here, he realized. Not tonight, not with her next door, not with the way every single nerve felt like it was buzzing.

Taking out his phone, he called Sam. "I'm staying at yours tonight," he said, ignoring his friend's greeting, "I…uh, Casey."

"Should I be concerned that your explanation actually made sense to me?" Sam said jokingly.

"I'll be there soon." He responded, abruptly ending the conversation.

Casey watched as he left the driveway, arms wrapped around herself, goosebumps still on her skin. The last few minutes played on repeat in her head.

"Where in the world is Derek going?" George interrupted her thoughts.

She jumped, startled by him, and hoped he couldn't see her lips, the blush on her cheeks. Laughing uncomfortably, she said, "Oh, he said he and Sam have a project. Last minute. Asked me to tell you. You know Derek."

George frowned. "He should have told me."

Casey looked at her stepfather quizzically, "Oh, I volunteered to tell you, said you wouldn't mind. He wanted my help on it but—" she stopped abruptly, realizing she was beginning to ramble.

"Right," George said hesitantly, not sure what to make of her story, "Well, thanks for encouraging him to do the work, I suppose. I'm off to bed. Good night, Casey."

"Night." She whispered, watching him leave.

Leaning her head back, she let out a long sigh. What in the hell was she going to do? Derek had _kissed _her.

After she implied she had feelings for him.

Which meant he did too, right?

Except he bolted the moment he realized what had happened.

Sleep would not come to either of them.


	4. Chapter 3

"Jeez, you look awful," Emily informed Casey sympathetically, "Rough night?"

"Yeah. Something like that." Her friend informed her blandly, her eyes roving across the people entering the hallway. She was regretting not pushing her mother harder to let her stay home, who had told her to try to get through the day.

"Well, what was it about?" It was a question Casey expected, but she wasn't about to tell anyone what really transpired the night before.

A familiar head of auburn hair edged its way past girls who vied for his attention. He looked as tired as her. When Derek's eyes met hers, he froze.

It was Casey's turn to bolt. Emily watched her friend push past three people, dodge a fallen backpack, and slip around a corner without falling once.

"What the hell did you do to Casey?" She asked, shock on her face, "She didn't even run into someone."

Derek looked at her warily, then to the side, as though trying to think of the answer. He gave up when Emily started to look exasperated. "I'm too tired for this," he muttered, leaving her bewildered.

The girl was not going to be deterred. She saw Sam at his locker, ignored his greeting and asked, "What's going on with Derek?"

Sam sighed, "Does no one want to say hi anymore before they start a conversation?"

Emily shot him a look. "Hi, Sam. How are you? Good? Great. Now what's going on with Derek? Casey is being weird, too."

The blonde rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Emily. Derek said they got into a fight. Didn't really go into it."

"And that doesn't seem odd to you?" Emily pressed.

"Yeah, it does, Emily, but my life doesn't revolve around Derek and Casey and resolving their fights. They'll work it out, in the weird way they always do." He responded, and said, "Seriously, don't worry about it. Gotta go."

Emily hoped he was right.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey hid in the library for lunch, in the Art History section, where almost no one ever went, if the dust was any indication.

She hadn't seen Derek since that morning, but it didn't change the general unease she felt. Wishing she knew what to do, she began her math assignment and tried to push him out of her mind.

Meanwhile, the boy she was trying to stop thinking about was in the nurse's office, feigning sick for a nap. The nurse took one look at him and let him sleep despite the obvious lie, responding firmly, "I'll have to wake you up if you're not out of here after the bell."

Derek ignored her, shutting his eyes. He didn't sleep, but it kept him away from everyone who might want to talk to him.

Every minute undisturbed by people calling his name or asking him about his plans for the next night, however, was taken up by memorizing the way Casey's skin felt beneath his fingers, the way she tasted, the way her lips felt against his.

It was torture, but one he stopped trying to fight many hours before.

This was really all Casey's fault. She was the one that had to confront him and just blurt out her feelings, and _she _was supposed to be the smart one, she had to know what saying something like that would have done. _She _was the one constantly, irritatingly, reminding him that he was her _stepbrother. _

But he could have ignored it. Made a joke. Pretended he didn't care.

So it was actually _his _fault, for being the moron to up the ante and _kiss _her.

The worst thing was he wanted to do it again. He was acutely aware of the need, the want, ignited within him, unfurling, rushing through him now. It all made sense.

He didn't need Casey because she made him finish his homework and challenged him to do things he doubted he would otherwise. He didn't need Casey because she was fun to piss off. He didn't need her as a sister, or a friend. Casey was the only girl that hadn't fallen hook, line, and sinker for the charm and ego he passed off to others.

In fact, she detested that about him, and Derek hated that, hated the idea that it was all she saw. Sometimes he managed to show her that there was more, but he always fucked it up somehow, and making her mad, irritating her enough to start using words that only characters in Victorian-era novels used, that meant so little now.

He needed more, needed her to need him, needed her to see that he was more than that.

Derek wanted her to pick him, over Max, Sam, all of the guys that looked at her and placated her.

It occurred to him that things had fallen apart enough for things to never be the same, no matter what. It occurred to him, that in the middle of this chaos, he might have his chance.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He had been prepared when he got home, sighing before knocking on her door, finding silence to greet him. She wasn't here, and she wasn't at Emily's (who appeared irritated at the dismissal of her questions). Nor was she at any of her favorite book haunts.

Playing 'Find Casey' was a feat harder than expected. Derek's resolve and confidence in his plan had decreased substantially with every half-hour that passed.

On the way home, the sign for the park he often took Marti to when she was younger caught his eye. Casey went there occasionally with the youngest siblings. Impulsively, he turned into the lot and left the car, picking a direction to walk at random.

There was a squeaking sound that grew louder as he continued walking. The swings did that, he remembered as they came into view. The sight revealed a familiar frame, hands wrapped around the chains tightly.

As Derek got closer, he recognized the backpack on the ground. It was Casey's.

A warm hand clasped her own, and Casey's breath caught, first out of fear of the unknown, second out of fear of the recognition of the voice behind her. "It's me, Case."

The swing beside her creaked as he sat down. It was lower than hers, bringing his knees to his nose. Casey laughed at the scowl on his face, but ceased when he returned to his feet and chose to face her instead.

"I'm not sorry about kissing you," she heard him finally say, as he shifted his eyes to the skyline behind her when her eyes widened in surprise, "so, I take that back."

A short laugh escaped his throat, he wasn't very good at this. Why he suddenly couldn't remember the script he'd spent memorizing was beyond him. "…and I had this…this whole speech planned out but I can't remember it now, no surprise there."

"There wasn't a _Bazinga!_ at the end, was there?" Casey asked, "Because if this is a joke…"

The boy looked cross, as though insulted. "No, there wasn't, and I don't know why I'd say that at the end anyway, but this isn't a joke."

"Why? Why did you kiss me, then?" She asked.

"Why did you wait in my room with a list of the pros and cons of, from what I can tell, us dating?" He countered.

She scowled, he crossed his arms.

"Because when you said you needed me, it made me realize some things. We're not like Ed and Lizzie. I wished we were for a while, you know. They were instant friends and we…we just…never worked. But it's different with us." Casey said.

Upon seeing the imploring look on his face she continued, "I don't want…I don't want to be introduced as your stepsister. I don't want to be some built-in friend you can go to for girl advice like Ed does with Lizzie. I don't want to get close to you and have that all it be. I don't know how to explain…what I want, or what I feel, except that I know it's nothing like it should be. So we fight, instead, to make it fit."

Derek shrugged. "So why not stop trying to make it like it should be?" He held a hand up to her, "And don't say because our parents are married and it's complicated. Besides that."

"You can't just ignore that, Derek, and think it'll solve things." Casey muttered.

"There's exceptions to every rule. You're not my sister, step or otherwise, we didn't grow up together, and you're just going to have to face the reality sometime, Case." He snapped.

"Face what reality?" Was her query, sounding terse.

"The fact that I kissed you, and you kissed me back, and even with me standing an entire hallway away, or just two feet away, it's all you want to do again."

Casey looked away from him, swallowing hard. "I hate myself for it, Derek. Do you have any idea of what I've had to listen to in my head since I even admitted to myself I wanted this? You can't possibly, or you wouldn't be telling me that."

His hands lifted her face to meet his, looking grave. "I don't care what you say you want to do, but you're going to listen to me on one thing, okay? I am just a guy you met…because your mom married my dad. That's it. Whatever's telling you this is the biggest sin you've ever committed, ignore it, Case. Don't torture yourself over this."

"I'll try," she whispered, "But we can't do this, Der. I'm sorry." His hands fell from her face.

He forced a smile. The pain was evident. "All right, Case. But I'm still taking you home."

_Our home, _she thought, tears pricking her eyes.


	5. Chapter 4

Following what Derek privately considered one of the most crushing failures of his life to date, a few additional incidents served to salt the wound.

No matter how hard he tried, anything other than fighting with Casey was difficult. Their ability to get along had completely been destroyed. Every moment that wasn't filled with an insult was filled with an impulse that refused to let up.

She felt him watch her; he felt her eyes follow him. But they never met, ever.

If that didn't serve to effectively solidify a few months' worth of rumination material for sleepless nights, the next incident surely did.

"Casey and Max are back together again?" Sam asked, watching as she took his hand and accepted a kiss.

Derek wanted to vomit whenever he saw them. He wanted to hate Casey for giving in to him, but he couldn't. She was taking comfort where she could find it; he did the same with the girls he met, each never lasting much longer than the one prior.

"I guess." He muttered darkly.

It wasn't the romance she dreamed of, Casey was sure. When she kissed him, she pictured Derek. When he touched her, she pictured Derek.

Derek, Derek, Derek.

It was ruining everything.

A month later, Max told her he couldn't be with her. He didn't feel she felt the same way. He hoped she would say she was just busy, that she'd try to be more attentive.

"I'm sorry, Max. It was…it's not someone I met recently. I thought I was ready."

The last bit was a lie, but he believed her.

Casey sighed. There was only one other option. She wasn't sure she really liked the idea herself, but she needed to do something.

"Mom," she said, poking her head into the bedroom where Nora was reading, "Can I talk to you?"

The smile her mother gave her made her feel worse, but she entered the room and sat beside her mother on the end of the bed.

"There's a school," she started, "in New York, it has a program where I can finish high school early and start college as soon as senior year starts here. It also has a really, really good financial aid program and—"

"You want to move in with your father?" her mother interjected.

Casey sighed. "I know he's not home a lot, and that's okay, I'll be busy too and I'm old enough now, to manage things on my own. It would really help with money, and there's a good drama program that would be really fun, but it would better than having to fill up my last year with a ton of electives."

Her mother looked at her with what seemed to be pride, but sadness as well. "I'd need to read about this myself and talk with the school before I even thought about allowing it. Have you talked to your father?"

"Not yet. I wanted to ask you first." She said, putting her hand on her mother's.

"Seems like yesterday you were just asking me to tie your shoes, and now you want to go to New York," Nora replied, forcing a smile, "Give me the information you have and I'll look into it this week, okay?"

Her daughter nodded and gave her a hug. "I love you, mom."

"I love you too, Casey."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

While the break up with Max secretly helped bring Derek's spirits up slightly, Casey made it clear nothing had changed between them as a result. They couldn't be civil with one another to begin with, but she was hiding something.

He could tell because she was distant from everyone in the house, everyone at school. Emily had to ask him what was wrong with her.

Despite how he asked, though, she wouldn't tell him what it was.

"Go away, Derek," she would icily respond, crossing her arms, "It's none of your business."

"Please, Case?" he said softly, "It's not…nothing bad?"

He chose to sacrifice any opportunity for fun for the next few weeks and skipped the last half of his day to find out. The places she hid things hadn't changed, so he figured it would be easy.

Except he couldn't find anything. Nothing in her diary (though she did mention she found his smirk sexy and that the body wash he had to use instead of his usual was, in her words, 'something only Derek could make appealing') indicated anything amiss, except for something about feeling impatient.

He searched the room twice. Whatever it was that was making her wait, he wasn't finding it in a tangible form. Derek's eyes flickered to her computer.

Guessing her password was tricky. She would purposefully pick something Derek wouldn't immediately think of, possibly something neutral. He tried the name of her favorite class with her graduating year, the name of Smarti's new stuffed elephant, and, out of vanity, 'CaseyVenturi'.

No dice.

He heard the phone ring, the machine picked up. He rushed down the stairs to listen to the disembodied voice in the air.

"Hello Mrs. Venturi, this is Anya Harris, calling about your inquiries regarding the advanced program at Lincoln Central. I've reviewed your daughter's transcripts that you've faxed over and I believe she could be a good fit for the program and could start as soon as next semester, so please give me a call back—"

Derek ignored the rest of the message, dashing up to his computer. Lincoln Central. Where the fuck was that and why where they calling?

According to the school's website, it was a program that combined high school and college education provided the student was a junior or senior and met the qualifications. It was unique from many other options because not only did it expose students to postsecondary academia earlier, it prepared them for the elite.

It was in New York.

Casey could wax poetic about school all she wanted, he knew she was doing it because of them. Because of him.

Deleting the message was something he couldn't resist. He knew Casey would never forgive him if he concealed that from her, and no matter how much he wanted her to stay, he couldn't do that to her. So he wrote down the details of the message, including the number, and put it in his desk drawer.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey dragged herself home, rolling her eyes at the sight of the Prince in the driveway. "Figures," she muttered to herself, letting herself into the house and heading upstairs. She had more than enough work to keep her busy, getting Derek to leave her alone was a nuisance she didn't look forward to.

He was leaning against the doorway of her bedroom, a slow smirk tilting his lips, making her stomach stir.

Narrowing her eyes, she said, "I don't have time for whatever it is you're up to."

The boy shrugged casually, raising her suspicion further. "I just have a question."

"For the last time, I'm not hiding anything. Not that it would be any of your business, whatever it is you think I'm doing," Casey responded sharply, slipping past him to put her things on her bed. She noted he had used his usual body wash this time. The impulse she was busy stifling grew.

"So the woman that called about, whasssitcalled, the program at Lincoln Center just happens to have the wrong house? How unfortunate, someone should inform her that she has the wrong grade-grubber."

Ice began to run through her veins, causing a pit of panic to fester. She turned, the panic evident on her face.

"You're planning on moving to New York, then? What, just going to slip off in the middle of the night? Play pretend?" He continued, his tone growing cooler, anger seeping into his eyes.

Casey sighed, sinking down to the floor. "Do you hate me?"

The question took him by surprise. "No, I mean, I'm mad, McDonald, trust me, but…" he trailed off when he realized she was crying.

He let out a groan. "Case, come on, it's awkward when you don't yell at me."

A brief pause passed. He silently told himself he wouldn't do anything stupid and sat beside her. "Come on, call me a jerk or something for deleting the message, at least. Use a big word. That'll make you feel better."

"It's for the best, you know. And I do want to go." She murmured, wiping her eyes.

"Right," Derek muttered, "Keep telling that to yourself, spaz."

"How do you know what I want and don't want?" he heard her snap indignantly, "You think you know everything about me because you read my diary?"

_Finally. _Derek thought, _something to work with. _"If you really wanted to go, you wouldn't be crying on your floor, and you wouldn't be hiding it from anyone, and you'd be talking about it nonstop. Trust me, I've had to listen to you go on forever about whatever project you're on, it's _really _lame."

He paused, considering his next statement. "You'd still miss me, you'd think of me whenever you tricked yourself into liking the next convenient guy. That isn't going anywhere." His hands found hers, their fingers interlacing.

"How would _you _know?" Casey said softly, intending it to come out harshly, but couldn't muster it.

"Because, Casey, I miss you even when you're in the room next to mine." Derek said, "When I saw you with Max, I wanted to rip his head off. I said I needed you, and it was the truth, but it's more than that. As much as you irritate the hell out of me and as much as _I_ _just don't get you, _I still want to kiss you right now. I don't even care that it doesn't really make sense to me."

She didn't respond, hiding the smile behind her hair.

"I'm asking for you to, just once, stop overthinking every little detail. You're better at making the rules than I am, because you're weird like that, but we already broke this one. You can make your lame rules and your stupid lists and figure how all this fits in your calendar later. Christ, Casey, your rambling is contag—."

"Shut up," she said, pulling him in for a kiss. In the corner of his eyes, he saw the door remained open, and moved to lock it.

Turning to find her having moved to sit on her bed, he smirked. "You've got new secrets to keep, Venturi," Casey said, just before his lips found hers again.

Sometime after, when the telltale sounds of the rest of the McDonald-Venturi clan arrived, they parted ways, opening textbooks and finding pencils.

Derek unlocked the door, just before Edwin knocked. "Yo, Ed, what are you doing?"

"Why are you in Casey's room?" he asked.

"She's helping me with history."

"But she's holding a math book." Edwin pointed out.

"It's a trade. He helps with math, I help with history." Casey supplied quickly.

"Right, about that, I lied," Derek responded smoothly, "I can't help you with math. Thanks for the answers to the homework you already had in your notebook, though."

"_De-rek!" _cried the girl, right on cue.

"Okay, well, I'm just going to go somewhere where the next world war _isn't _happening." Edwin muttered, walking away wishing he hadn't said anything.

"Actually, I was serious about the homework, you left your notebook here when you left for school." Derek said after he was gone, holding a notebook up with a smirk.

"You—"

"Have fun with your lists!" He said in lieu of a farewell.

That night, as they were doing the dishes, Nora was told her daughter wanted to continue attending school there, because she had decided leaving wasn't what she really wanted to do yet. Secretly she was relieved, but found herself wondering what changed.

Casey seemed happy, and she supposed that was all that mattered. "I'm glad. I would have missed you."

"Yeah, me too," Derek said sarcastically, depositing the last of the dirty dishes on the counter and evidently eavesdropping on the conversation.

"You'd miss getting free homework to steal," Casey pointed out, raising an eyebrow. The euphemism was clear to him.

"Yeah, maybe a little," he responded nonchalantly before leaving the room.

She ducked her head to hide the smile growing on her face from her mother, who was busy packaging up the leftovers.

Casey had to admit Derek had a point. Breaking the rules could be fun.

But sometimes they came with consequences.


	6. Part 2, Chapter 5

**Part 2**

Four months later, Casey was getting fed up.

She was getting tired of long fights with short reprieves where things seemed normal, and worse, she couldn't figure out why they were fighting so much to begin with.

Nora let out an audible sigh when she saw Casey walk through the door in her cheer uniform, fuming, hair mussed and cheeks red. Predictably, she uttered one name in an almost guttural roar: _"DEREK!"_

"Hey, Space Case. Nice outfit." Derek remarked, smirking.

He meant that, she could tell, but she didn't care. "Not only did you forget to pick me up from practice, you took my bag home so I'd have to walk in the rain!"

"At least I took your bag home. Who says I forgot, sister dearest?"

Okay, now he was mad, he only brought out the "s" word when he wanted to piss her off.

"It had my cell phone in it, which you knew," Casey muttered, "But thank you for confirming that you are, in fact, the world's most immature teenager, and reminding me, _yet again,_ of the misfortune I have as your _sister._"

He shot her a glare.

When Nora didn't offer an interjection, and neither did George (both of whom were in the kitchen, massaging rapidly growing headaches), Casey glared at the boy idly propped up on the couch.

"Oh, Casey, Casey, Casey. I think it's you. Are you incapable of taking a joke or being human in the slightest? I guess it _would _explain that lack of a real love life, a reputation, and actual friends besides the stalker next door…" Derek pretended to disappear into heavy musing.

"Harmless fun! Derek, people get pneumonia from rain, and they _die!_"

Derek rolled his eyes. "No, they don't, that's a myth."

"Whatever, Derek. It wasn't fair and you know it." She responded quieter this time, so the two adults in the kitchen couldn't hear her.

For a moment, Derek looked ashamed. "I'm just trying to not…treat you different."

The girl glared at him, unaffected by the softening of his demeanor. "No you weren't. You said that on purpose," she snapped, surrendering the battlefield for the day and running up the stairs.

Derek heard her trip over a step. "Nice move, Klutzilla!" His tone was sharp and bitter.

"Stupid Derek. Stupid rain. Stupid cheerleading." Casey ranted to herself as she peeled her varsity uniform off.

Pulling on warmer clothes, she continued to rant under her breath. "Stupid boyfriends. Aren't they supposed to be nice and caring and devote themselves to you? No, that's too much to ask of macho, manwhore Derek!"

Flopping onto her bed, she sighed to herself. "Why the hell am I dating him again?"

"A masochistic streak a mile wide? Incapable of ignoring my devilish charm?" Derek offered from her bedroom doorway, leaning against the frame. _Ability to accept my endless stupidity and forgive me?_

Casey scoffed. "Masochistic? Call the news, Derek figured out what a dictionary was!"

"Oh, that stings, princess." The boy muttered dryly, slipping past the doorway, shutting it behind him, "Well, Case, think about it. In your love life, all you dated were assholes who never made it past the six month mark."

_I need to think more before I say things, _the boy thought, cringing inwardly at the words that left his mouth.

"Assholes like the one I'm dating now?" Casey asked hotly, "Good point."

Derek's stomach roiled at the implication she was making, and he hated that feeling. He'd been having it too much lately, and it was always Casey that did it to him. Bitterly, he snapped back, "Maybe I wouldn't have to be one if it wasn't this way, ever think of that, _dear?"_

A scoff cut through the air. "Really? You're going to justify this by blaming me?"

"Not only do I have to pretend I don't care when everyone else is around, I have to pretend like some guy hitting on you at your locker is _peachy-fucking-keen_. I _saw_ you, Case! So yeah, maybe I thought you'd just get a ride with the loser giving you every cheesy line in the book so he could say he finally conquered the uptight Casey McDonald."

Casey's eyes widened briefly, as though she hadn't been aware of the fact that she was merely a conquest to some guys, and was standing up now, dangerously close to stabbing a pen in one of his eyes.

"You know me better than that," she hissed.

Instead of using the pen, Casey shoved him back with all her might, tears already glittering in her eyes. The door slammed in his face, and Derek sighed.

So much for apologies.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dinner followed with more drama, thanks to the contribution of Derek's siblings.

Marti threw a temper tantrum about there being no macaroni and cheese, Edwin spilled an entire platter of salad dressings, and Lizzie complained about the waste of said dressings as she picked at her salad.

"I'll make it tomorrow, Marti." George promised.

Marti smiled, fully over the exemption of cheesy pasta, and spoke about her day.

Derek only caught part of the story, too busy trying to catch Casey's stare with his own. She was stubbornly choosing to pretend her plate was the most fascinating thing on the planet.

"…And then Nathan said I couldn't eat a rock, and I said I would, and then he said he'd give me a whole quarter if I would, but the recess teacher caught me and made me sit down on the bench the _whole _time!"

George spoke of a difficult client he'd had, and still had the raging headache he'd had before. Nora told him to take some ibuprofen, and glanced at her eldest stepson.

"You two are quiet," she said, "Would it be foolish of me to hope you've worked out your differences?"

Casey looked at her mother, pasting on a dry smile, purposefully ignoring the boy gazing at her. "Sorry, mom. Maybe if he ever stops acting like a five-year-old."

"Or if she wasn't such a stuck-up princess," supplied Derek, anger seeping into his expression.

"Stop it, you two, if only to give an old man some peace," interjected George quickly, "or I'll take away the TV for the rest of the week," holding no hopes for a future alliance between the eldest stepsiblings.

His warning didn't seem to resonate very strongly. Edwin let out a loud burp and the boys erupted into hysterical laughter.

George sighed. Five kids was sometimes simply outside of his tolerance range.

"Whoever's turn it is to do the dishes—do them, I'm going to go lay down." He muttered, leaving the table in search of pain relievers and silence.

As it turned out, it was Casey's turn to wash the dishes, and Derek's turn to dry. Not one sibling stuck around to listen to their pleas to trade chores, and Nora snapped at them for their immature behavior, only cutting her lecture off short to check on her husband.

Derek was suddenly aware of the fact that he was alone with an angry Casey again. In a place with many sharp objects, no less.

Rather than saying anything, Casey began rinsing the dishes she had brought into the kitchen. He was not dense enough to help bring the last few in, but she appeared not to be aware of his presence at all.

_Really, _I'm _the five year old in this situation? _Thought Derek irritably. He grabbed a clean towel to start drying the clean dishes.

They stood side-by-side in silence, the only sound permeating the air around them being the clanking of the dishes.

Derek watched her for a few minutes, deciding to try to make amends. "I like your hair down. It looks nice."

Casey ignored him. Derek was not easily discouraged.

He set the last plate down and stood against her back, massaging her shoulder blades. Even in her anger, Casey's head drooped slightly as he eased the tension.

"So, how was your day?" Derek asked, his voice actually void of sarcasm.

She knew he was trying to make things okay, but the question left her bitter, reminding her of the occurrences that afternoon.

"How do you _think _it was, Derek?" Casey snapped, furiously scrubbing a fork, the tension quickly returning.

"Why are you getting mad at me? All I did was ask you how you goddamn day was!"

"I realize your IQ is fairly low, Derek, but even you should be able to figure it out. Think. How about because you managed to make it ten times worse?"

"Casey…" he said softly, "I told you why I had to do that."

He was lying. She knew he was lying, he knew she knew. He always hid behind the nice little excuse of having to keep the pretense up, and Casey wasn't having it.

Casey stared at him with such a pointed glare he almost flinched. "Shut up, Derek. If you're going to make excuses, why try?"

She dried her hands hastily, and left him standing in the kitchen.

"Fuck." Derek whispered, closing his eyes.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When he lay in bed, staring at his ceiling, he faintly realized it was one in the morning and he still wasn't asleep. Propping himself up, he flung his blankets off and tiptoed out of his room, waiting momentarily at the door next to his.

He closed the door, as quietly as he could. "What the fuck are you doing!" Casey whispered angrily. He came closer to her, and she turned on her bedside lamp.

"C'mere." He said simply, sitting down, his back resting against her knees.

"Derek, you idiot. No!" Casey whispered, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Come on…" he said, letting the syllables out slowly, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Adorable as it may be, Hell hath no fury like a scorned Casey McDonald. "I'm still mad at you, you ass. What makes you think I want anything to do with you and your pea-sized brain?"

"I can handle staying here all night, you know."

"Enjoy sleeping on the floor." Casey said stubbornly.

"Casey…" he said softly, gazing at her in that way he knew made her knees weak. He briefly touched her face. "Casey, Casey, Casey…"

She held a strong face. Pressing his cheek against hers, he whispered, _"Casey."_

In that instant her face softened, and she pulled her blankets back to allow him to crawl next to her.

He tried to kiss her; she deterred him.

"I'm still mad at you." She said softly, unconvincingly.

"It was a stupid joke to leave you at school," he stated softly, kissing her neck, "Especially when you're in that uniform."

It was the closest she'd ever get for an apology, she knew. It was the closest they'd get to talking about the fact that six weeks had gone by and an observable shift had occurred in their relationship.

"You are a frustrating, pig-headed, revolting human being, Derek Venturi. I never get my seven hours of sleep when I'm around you." Casey muttered, the words softened by the kiss she gave him.

"Mmm. And you're an irritatingly stuck-up princess sometimes, but you're _my _princess." He murmured, making his way to her lips.

She tilted her head towards him, and allowed him to grab her closer. He bit her neck in that way that made her tingle; raked his fingernails against her flesh; made her gasp.

Running his fingers roughly through her hair, he murmured, staring up at her, half-plagued with desire, "Still mad at me?"

"Yes." Casey sighed, placing her head in the crook of his neck.

"You smell good." He murmured.

"I know," she said lightly, "But don't think I don't know where that hand of yours is going, Venturi."

He growled playfully in her ear.

"Shush, idiot. Let me sleep."

He wanted to ask her to lie beside him, but to gain some brownie points he let her fall asleep against him.

He liked the smell of mangoes, anyway.


	7. Chapter 6

Casey awoke the next morning with a shrill beeping sound screeching in her left ear. She grumbled, lazily looking for the snooze button. She couldn't find it. The clock therefore continued its inexorable cries.

Her hand fished around on the floor, yanking the cord out of the socket, allowing an abrupt silence to follow. Fingering the blankets resting on top of her, the girl blearily remembered the events of the night before and found herself pondering on whether she should smile or scowl.

Derek did those things to her; muddled her every sense, muddled her logic, and sometimes, just _sometimes, _she felt it was unbearable. Still lying on her mattress, allowing the warmth of her quilts to keep her locked in her sleepy daze, she sighed.

Casey supposed she was a little too hard on him sometimes. They might have mutually agreed to keep their relationship a secret, but it didn't mean it wasn't difficult.

Not everyone would understand. Maybe not even their own parents.

Slipping two slim feet into bunny slippers, she padded out into the hallway, where, yet again, silence greeted her. The bathroom wasn't occupied either. Casey found this suspicious. Normally she had to scream at Derek until she was hoarse. Instead of taking the opportunity while it lasted, Casey headed down the stairs instead, toward the kitchen.

Voices did not greet her. Casey, fully confused by this point, realized her entire family wasn't even up yet. She wiped the sleep from her eyes, stepped into the kitchen, and there sat Derek, idly sipping on black coffee with an air of arrogance that irritated her.

"Derek," she began gently, barely stifling her anger, realizing that Derek had something to do with the odd demeanor of her household, "Why are we the only ones up?"

He didn't even look at her. "Probably because I set your alarm to go off at five."

"You _what?_" She hissed icily.

"Just a guess, Case." He said smoothly, setting the green mug in the sink. His hair was damp, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief.

Casey grudgingly admitted to herself that he looked attractive in this moment. That was what got her into all this trouble in the first place.

"I'm going back to bed."

"Casey." Derek said her name in a certain way that always made her come back. His tongue lingered on the syllables, drawing them out with the soft rumble of his voice.

She would never tell him this, of course, because he would use it for perverse reasons. But she turned to him, still fuming, but mostly over her lack of control.

Derek always got the best of her, it seemed. In some ways she loved it, but in other ways it drove her mad. Made her feel like she wasn't the independent person she was.

If she ever told Paul, he would probably say she was more afraid of caring for Derek than anything. Being independent saved her from heartache. Casey thought, sometimes, that Derek could cause her heartache that was worse than anything she'd experienced, so maybe imaginary-Paul was right.

"I need to talk to you." He said seriously. Casey eyed him in distaste.

"Why can't we talk here?"

Derek sighed, closed his eyes for a moment. "_Because, _Case. Just because." Did she really have to be so difficult? For a woman who supposedly loved sappy surprises, Casey's nature made it difficult to try.

The dark-haired girl stared at him for a second, unsure of whether to proceed with a snarky comment or an equally serious gesture.

She sighed, "Okay," and shuffled toward the stairs, planning on a nice shower. At least she would get that today.

"Hey, Casey?" Derek called softly, his smirk evident in his voice, "Do you mind if I watch?"

Casey glowered at him.

"Only if you want to never have children again."

"That would be so much more threatening if you weren't wearing your yummi sushi pajamas, Case."

Casey simply stuck his tongue at him and sauntered away.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"_Why _are we leaving so early again?" Casey asked while shuddering, rubbing her hands in an attempt to keep warm. It was January, and the cold would be here a while. In Texas, the cold was never an issue. Even in a thick parka, Casey was freezing.

Derek started the car, the heat blaring. He ignored her, pulling the car out into the street and heading to the local cafe where he could purchase a cheap shut-Casey-up beverage that would not only please him but her as well.

"_Derek!" _She began, a tinge of irritation to her tone, "Where the hell are we going?" She didn't fully trust Derek to get her on time to school, if at all. The boy did not get up early for no reason.

"Casey," Derek said, fully annoyed, "Please shut up. I'm trying to drive, and the screeching noise otherwise defined as your voice is distracting me."

"You never treat me like a girlfriend." She muttered, "Even when we're alone."

_She's right, _he thought,_ and something tells me I'm going to screw up a few thousand more times until I get this right._ He inwardly let out a groan. _A few thousand moments of Casey's whining, nagging, and retorts. Fun._

The rest of the drive was silent and uncomfortable. Casey fiddled with the radio until he swatted her hand away. "He who controls the Prince also controls the tunes." Derek reminded her.

He could feel her pouting. _God, _she was annoying when she pouted in situations where he was incapable of kissing it off her face.

It did strange things to him, that pout. Maybe Derek was the masochist.

Little did he know, Casey was fully aware of the desire that pouting elicited. She'd figured it out fairly early on, and just did it now because…well, the whole push-and-pull thing she and Derek had, that was just their way. And maybe Casey wasn't always as mature as she thought she should be; she blamed Derek for this.

As they pulled into the driving lot, Casey's pouting changed into a small smile. _Of course. _Sugary coffee was her kryptonite.

Derek put the car in park, surprised by a hand sliding up his face, pulling him closer. He felt the curve of her smile against his lips, the warmth of her against his chest, and as he moved to deepen the kiss, Casey drew back, looking him in the eyes briefly before kissing his cheek and making her way out of the car.

Did he detect some devilishness in those baby blue eyes of hers? Why, yes, he did. Derek smirked to himself, watching her leave. He was so proud of his influence.

Derek trailed behind her purposefully. At this hour, staring at her without shame was a possibility, and it was one he was going to take. She was getting caffeine, he was getting his "lecherous gazing", as Casey called it, out of his system. Clearly everyone was winning here.

The bustling and loudness of the early birds not deterring her mission of getting her caffeine; she ordered something, probably something sugary. She pulled out a bill, but he quickly put down a twenty, avoiding her eyes purposely just so he wouldn't see the obvious sentiment in them. They plopped into the large, fluffy chairs, oddly exhausted.

"What did you want to talk about?" Casey asked distractedly, waiting for her coffee.

He sighed. God, this was going to be hard. Admitting his faults. He hated admitting things.

"Well…" he began, "I just wanted to say I know—"

"Casey? Derek?" a familiar voice cried, "Oh my God! Hi!" Derek groaned, burying his face in the palm of his hands. No, no, no, no, _no._

Kendra walked over saucily, eyeing him. He watched her with a certain disappointment and anger. _Damn you, Kendra, for being so goddamn social. Damn _you, _Venturi, for taking Casey to the most over populated coffee shop in Canada._

"So guys, what's up?" Kendra chirped, planting her ass onto the table between them.

"_Nothing._" Derek muttered in a strained voice. Kendra began to talk, mostly to herself, and Derek pretended to listen. Casey watched him with curious eyes, sipping her coffee that _he _had paid for.

He shifted his gaze, supposing it had been a stupid idea anyway. Presuming he could ever take Casey anywhere and have her be _just _his.

The time of the day didn't change the truth, did it?

She was his stepsister, and his secret. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out everything normal couples got to do, he gave up the second he kissed her four months ago.


	8. Chapter 7

Once Derek had managed to escape from Kendra's incessant chattering by lamely stating that "the grade-grubber needed to get to school early", he felt lethargic.

He didn't notice the way the comment made Casey's earlier warmth toward him disappear.

Perhaps because he spent most of the morning agonizing over what he'd say to Casey. And then Kendra came along, and his numerous internal pep talks and confidence builders had just crashed all around him.

What had he been thinking? Derek didn't _do _cutesy crap like buy coffee and have heart-to-hearts about his flaws.

That was what was driving him nuts, he decided, Casey's expectations for things to be like a real relationship when they obviously couldn't.

He did care about her, but not enough to prove it, not enough to do something to prove he wanted to keep her around. He was taking the easy way out, he knew. He always did.

"Are you going to start the car?" Casey muttered, jolting him out of his thoughts.

He cleared his throat, "Yeah. Don't worry, Case. You aren't going to have your virginal record ruined today."

"Unlike yours," Casey commented coolly. She took her compact mirror out, fixed her hair. Derek eyed her for a second, feeling almost sick, because she looked vaguely like Kendra then. Kendra had been a mistake. He wasn't sure yet if Casey was a mistake too.

He started the car, barely missing the Volkswagen that honked at him as he backed out.

"Derek! God, watch where you're going! I'd like both of us to get to school intact." She snapped, "Do I need to give you another driver's ed lesson?"

"So noble, Case. Tell me, do you offer these things to pretend you're a goody-goody, or do you _really_ not see how much you love to pretend you're so much better than me?" Derek rallied back, anger growing, spreading, in the cramped space between them.

"Oh, forgive me Derek, for bruising that oversized ego of yours, I'd forgotten how much more dear it was to you than anything else," Casey all but snarled in return.

A car honked at them, pulling them out of their acerbic banter. Derek tossed her a glare and chose to drop whatever pointed comment he was going to give her in order to actually arrive to their next destination.

When they arrived to the parking lot, still nearly empty, the anger and words left unsaid hung in the air remained.

"Thanks for the coffee." Casey said, swallowing down whatever icy insult she had in reserve, "I'll catch the bus home."

She turned to leave, and Derek responded sarcastically, "What, no thank you kiss for me, on account of us getting here safely and all? If you're mad, Casey, don't hold back on my account. I don't have feelings like glass."

_That _riled her up. She turned to look at him, eyes flaring up again, cheeks reddening, "You know what, Derek? I was trying not to fight with you because that's all we seem to do lately. I'm sick of this. I'm sick of making up and hoping things will be better only to turn around and find us fighting again five minutes later over stupid, inconsequential _shit. _I have better things to do than fight with you like a five-year-old."

There was a brief pause, as Casey realized what she said. _That wasn't fair, _she told herself. She wanted to apologize, but predictably, Derek set her off before the rational idea came to fruition.

"What are you trying to say, _Case?_" he snarled, "I'm not good enough for you?"

She fiddled with her backpack. "I've got to go."

No answer was worse than any retort she could have given him as an answer. Derek grabbed her arm.

She pulled her arm back wordlessly and hurled the car door open, stomping off, Derek presumed, to a particular counselor who didn't get paid enough to deal with her crap.

He sighed, rested his head against the window. The ironic thing was that sometimes it seemed they'd gotten along _more_ when they hadn't started their relationship.

The incompatibility of them was starting to take its toll, and Derek could feel the faint sense of a final blow-out, and an end to them. Completely.

He didn't know it, and it wouldn't have made him feel better, but he was right about where the dark-haired girl, boiling with anger, was headed.

When Casey opened his door viciously, Paul sighed, simply sipping his coffee. "Take a seat." She obeyed, finding comfort in the familiar ripped cushions and the faint smell of old, withered books.

Paul's desk was in complete disarray, and he forced a smile, looking exhausted.

Her relationship with Derek was like a plague, it made her more exhausting than usual, clearly she hadn't been paying attention. At that notion, she promptly burst into tears. How had everything turned into such a mess?

Casey did not consider that there were other explanations for Paul's reaction, like her interrupting his morning rendezvous with his coffee.

Paul cleared his throat. "So. I'm assuming it's Derek again?"

He knew her too well. It would be easier if she could tell him the truth, tell him _why _everything was so much worse than before, so much more destructive, but she couldn't. Paul knew that something was going on, that something out of the ordinary, but she hoped at least that he couldn't pinpoint the _why_.

The man handed her the box of tissues. She accepted them gratefully, taking a few minutes to calm herself.

"It's not like before. We're both having these screaming matches, trying to one-up each other, trying to win this game of…of something." Casey said aloud, and realized it didn't sound like anything particularly new. Paul regarded her silently, trying not to sigh.

"Of what, Casey?" The man asked, still wondering why he'd chosen to go to work early.

"I don't know what, Paul, but it's not just affecting us. George and my mother have officially stopped trying to ease the fights, and it's only a matter of time before it affects Lizzie and Edwin and Marti too." Paul watched her slump in her chair, tiredness and surrender in her eyes.

She was falling apart too, and finally, he could see that. She was the one suffering the brunt of it, overall. It was something more than just regular Casey-and-Derek fights.

"Casey," Paul said gently, "I think you're both stressed about something, and you're expressing it through anger. Have you tried to sit down and talk, actually _talk, _to Derek about this? About how hurtful and bad it is for not just you and him, but the rest of the family?"

"No," Casey muttered darkly, "It's _Derek_. He wouldn't listen to me, he'd just call me a freak and close the door on me."

"You need to try. Try to talk to him, because if you don't try, you won't know if Derek realizes this too. And maybe, for the sake of the family, you two could agree to ease up."

"But we don't know how to, Paul! That's the worst part of this whole thing!"

Paul sighed, knowing he was going to regret his next answer. "Talk to him. And if you can get through to him, then we can set up an appointment in my office. I can help you Casey, but you need to make sure you help _him _too."

If it got Casey to do what he asked, maybe he wouldn't have to be involved at all. _Yeah, right, _Paul thought to himself.

"Okay, Paul. I'll try." Casey said weakly, unable to think of any other excuse or concern. He was right. Something had to be done.

The bell rang shrilly, causing Casey to flinch, and she stood up. She forced a smile at him.

"Thanks, Paul. I know my stress is wearing on you too."

And before Paul could explain, she was out the door. Paul sighed. He really, really hoped that this would end soon.

When Casey shut the door behind her, Derek grabbed her before she could dart away from him, not knowing she was looking for him anyway.

"Derek," Casey said, before he could utter a word, "Tonight, midnight. We need to talk." She looked at him seriously.

"Why?" he said icily.

"Just be there," Casey snapped, and left before he could grab her.

He scoffed.

He knew exactly where this was going.

His question had been answered: Casey was officially the biggest mistake he had made.


	9. Chapter 8

"Casey!"

She heard her name being called, of course, but was too angry to turn her head. The girl didn't want to talk to anyone, including Emily. _Especially _Emily.

"Casey!" the voice called again, and Emily grabbed Casey's arm. Inwardly, Casey sighed, but outwardly she gave Emily a half-assed smile. Emily was out of breath, looking at Casey in bewilderment.

"There's something weird going on with you, Casey," Emily stated, eyeing her friend in worry, "You've never been so…_out _of it. Did something happen?"

_I've been dating Derek for the last four months and it's ruining everything, _she thought.

"_No_, Em, nothing's wrong." She lied, fully knowing her best friend would never believe her.

"But—"

"Let it go, Em." Casey said between gritted teeth, and headed into French.

Her teacher greeted her with a smile, and Casey couldn't even muster the energy to smile back. She wanted to sleep. To just get out of the nightmare that was currently her life.

Casey's French class was currently covering a section on the history of France, more specifically its romantic period.

_It's official_, she thought as her teacher's voice droned, eventually becoming a steady hum in her ears, _I'm in hell._

The French class eventually ended, and Casey wanted to get out as fast as possible but her teacher stopped her. She let her shoulders slump, clearly stating how much she did _not _want to be there.

"Casey," her teacher asked, "is anything wrong?"

"No," she said abruptly, darting away before he could ask anything else.

If _anyone _else asked her what was wrong, she was going to explode. Really, she was.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Unaware of Casey's own torments, Derek was in much the same situation she was in. Sam had already queried him on his mood, and so had Ralph, who had stated Derek must be "in a dating slump" or "on his man period".

"Not everyone can stay on top forever, D." Ralph said, completely oblivious to Derek's seething.

His teachers, of course, did not care about his mental/emotional state, for he never cared about theirs. He passed though his classed relatively unscathed.

But then lunch came, and that was where the horrors of his day truly began.

Casey would be there. She would be there, pretending he didn't exist, picking at her weird tofu salad, and making him feel even worse about their current predicament.

Slowly he walked into the lunchroom, fully aware of certain girls' eyes on him. None of them were Casey's. He knew because she was the only one he couldn't find.

Howls and catcalls flew past him as he sat down in a slump, wishing he hadn't chosen to make an appearance—but he was Derek Venturi. He simply _had _to be there.

Pretending to be interested in Sam's comments, Derek had the slightest twinge of envy toward Casey, who obviously decided to hide in the library.

As nerdy and as lame as it was, he felt he'd rather be with her than here.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

In the library, Casey munched on a carrot stick, reading the first line in her book for the hundredth time. In exasperation, she put her book down. Read? How was she supposed to read at a time like this?

_I know what I'll do, Casey thought,_ with a burst of optimism, _I'll write a list of the things I'll say to Derek._

Neatly, on her grape-scented paper, she wrote, _Things to tell Derek_.

She twisted a strand of hair. He was an utter jerk. Could she write that down? No, they'd start arguing again. Maybe she should tell him how she felt, about his insults.

No, he would make a comment about being overly sensitive.

Their relationship? No, they hardly had one. That was the whole point of the list!

Oh, face it, Casey thought in growing surrender, I don't even know what I'm going to _start _with.

"Maybe…" she whispered to herself, "Maybe I should remind him of how things _were_."

She stared down at her paper.

"Maybe I should show him how much we've changed, how _this _has changed us."

_Ohh…_

Casey sighed in worry.

_But how?_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When the bell rang, signifying the end of his horrific, tiring, all-around shitty day, Derek joined the erratic bustle of students to the parking lot. He just needed to get to the car. Then he could drive home, slam his headphones on, and pretend today never happened.

"Derek!" Sam called.

He stiffened at the call of his name. He _knew _he had hockey practice today, but really, he didn't even want to be _conscious _right now.

"Hey, D, forget about practice?" Sam asked, jogging up to him.

"I don't feel well." Derek lied, not even attempting to feign a cough.

"But you _have _to come! You're captain!"

"Deal with it, Sam, okay? I'm going home." Derek said curtly.

He pulled open the car door, threw his bag in the back, and started the engine. He left without a second glance at his best friend.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey sighed, shutting the door behind her and locking it, finally glad she was alone; no Derek, no parents, no siblings. She'd had the _worst _day, what with Em watching her like a hawk and having to avoid Derek all day.

Derek. Thank God he had practice. She needed some time to think.

She headed up the stairs, setting her pack on her bedroom floor, deciding to take a bath to help her relax.

The sound of the running water soothed her nerves as she stepped out of her clothing, folding it neatly and setting it on the toilet lid.

Applying a generous amount of bubble bath, she sank into the warmth with a contented sigh.

Surely, with a relaxed mindset, she could think of things to say to him. "You're so complicated, though." She whispered to herself. There was a time when she didn't think _Derek, _of all people, could possibly be complicated.

The sound of the doorknob jiggling jolted her out of her thoughts.

Before she could even rise out of the water, Derek had successfully infiltrated into her content mood. There was also a time where his presence in this situation was one she wanted. She fought back the memories of the first time it happened.

Somewhat funnily, Derek had been the nervous one, unsure, uncertain. She was the one telling him it was okay.

"Well, _hello._" Derek said, a smirk growing on his face. He shut the door behind him. "What have we here?"

"Derek!" she growled, crossing her arms, "I don't want to deal with you right now."

Leaning against the wall and sliding down to be level with her, he whispered into her ear, "You sure, Case? We have a few hours." His breath sent tingles down her spine.

"I'm serious!" Casey protested.

Derek rose to his feet suddenly, pretense dropped.

"Fine." He said simply, as he was halfway out the door.

Casey tried to lessen the tension. "I don't need Mom or George walking in on us to top off the day I had, okay?" she said softly.

Derek couldn't resist turning and asking slyly, "What would we be doing?"

"_I_ would be killing. _You _would be dying." She snapped.

The familiar rumble of their parents' car interrupted them. Perhaps he had been wrong about the amount of time they had.

His eyes regarded her for a moment, as though he wanted to say something serious. _There isn't the time for this, you moron, _Derek thought to himself. Abandoning the attempt, he left as silently as he entered.

"Great." Casey remarked aloud, "_Great._"

Suddenly Paul's little assignment just seemed even more difficult.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dinner was silent. Casey opted to not eat, despite relentless coaxing from Nora. She stayed locked in her room, not at all comforted by the fact that Derek was really just a floor below her.

She could feel him, his presence, the feelings for him, conflicting, causing a knot to form in her chest. _Even when we're not in the same room we're still fighting._

Maybe it was her answer. They were always fighting, and maybe being together wasn't right.

It brought a strong sense of unease to Casey, an unease that drove a sharp stab of pain in her chest.


	10. Chapter 9

Around midnight or so, when Derek entered her room with a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich with milk, Casey barely stifled her scream, having begun to doze off out of exhaustion.

"God, Case, it's just food." Derek remarked dryly.

"It's not that." She muttered in reply, sitting up and picking at the nonexistent lint on her bedspread, "I'm just really anxious."

He shoved the food in her lap, plopped down beside her, and promptly rid of the milk by gulping it down. Casey simply viewed all of this with a glare. She set the sandwich aside, reorganizing her thoughts and anger for a different time, and looked at him.

"The reason I wanted to talk was—" Casey began, fiddling with her hair.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Derek interjected, "Because if you are, please save the 'I'll spare his feelings' speech for someone who really cares."

Casey gave him a thin smile, devoid of any real emotion, and a glassy stare. "You know, Derek, I don't understand you. For three months, it was great. You kissed me, you hugged me, you acted like you _cared, _Derek. And now, for over a month, it's like doing any of that…it's like you're scared to care, Derek."

Derek didn't hold her gaze. "Yeah, well," he began lamely, and watched as she took his hand, and suddenly his throat closed up and he couldn't find the words. She was right, of course she was right.

"And then we started fighting, more and more, and I felt like I was losing you. Sure, we made up, but it never lasted long, did it?"

_Now's the time to say something, Derek, and you're not and I don't understand why. _She felt tears threatening to spill. Casey sighed, trying to clear the wavering of her voice, and took her hand from his.

She had to be strong, now, if this was how he was going to respond. "I was going to tell you that Paul wanted to talk to us together, so we could think of more positive ways to communicate instead of screaming at each other all the time. But clearly, since you don't care, it's not something you'd want to waste your time with, so never mind. There's the door, use it."

"Casey…Casey, I'm sorry." He sighed, his mind racing, trying to figure out how to answer her, "It's just difficult, Case."

"You're sorry…" Casey echoed flatly, "…and it's difficult."

She paused again, and whispered, "Just tell me the truth. When you sat here in my bedroom, you told me to stop overthinking and just give in because you wanted it too, was that a lie? Or is this about getting the one girl no one thought you would, Derek? Well, you did. But we're not working anymore, and I'm tired of fighting."

Her voice broke at the edge of his name, and he stood up, ignoring the clatter of the plate on the floor. He didn't want her to think that, she couldn't, and he tried to say it but panicked when she realized what she was doing.

"_Casey, _no, no, no._" _He put his arms around her, murmuring it so intensely, she almost listened to him. Almost.

She hugged him back, briefly, though it pained her to do so. "Just go, Derek. Please."

Derek, at the end of the night, was left with a sandwich he was no longer hungry for, and fifty million emotions hitting him all at full force.

He found himself aware of two things.

Casey had broken up with him.

And he was stupidly, ridiculously, pathetically, in love with her. It terrified him.

How had he fallen in love with her? The question hit him hard and heavy, and sharp and painful, and he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe.

He had to calm down, he had to get himself alright again, but all he could do was fixate on the feelings in his chest.

It wasn't supposed to end this way. He wouldn't let it end this way, he was going to fix it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Paul considered himself a fairly calm person in the face of unexpected events. Objective during the most stressful of times, with an ability to facilitate solutions quickly.

All of this confidence, however, quickly was forgotten the moment he heard a knock on his door just as he had arrived for classes to start. It was the kind of timing he could only attribute to one person.

"Come in," he murmured, looking around for a box of tissues, "How'd the talk go, Casey?"

"Not that great," responded a flat voice. A voice that Paul was certain was not Casey, but the ever sarcastic and cocky Derek Venturi.

He suddenly wished he had Casey in his office—he knew how to deal with Casey. Derek could be a headache.

Nonetheless, he straightened up in his chair, and motioned for the boy to sit down. He looked quite terrible, but the counselor chose not to mention this.

"I can't say I expected you to come here. I suppose Casey managed to convince you somehow?"

Derek looked like he wanted to snap at him, but held his tongue. "What exactly has she told you? About…what's going on?"

Paul sighed. "I'm not allowed to share that information with other students, Derek, I'm sorry."

The hockey player scowled, but thought about the answer for a moment. She hadn't told Paul, not everything. It was obvious. But did he want to?

"Anything I say, you can't tell anyone? Especially Casey?" He asked sharply.

"Yes. I would never share what you tell me in confidence with anyone, provided it doesn't regard something illegal." The counselor said, as warmly as he could.

The boy across from him regarded him very seriously, and with bitterness in his mouth, told Paul the truth.

"Casey and I were fighting so much because we were dating, except we had to keep it this stupid secret, and things got worse because I'm an _idiot—_but let's be fair here, she kind of is too sometimes—and she broke up with me because I never talk to her about serious things and then I figured out I'm in love with her and well, I don't want it to be over."

"Uhm." Paul uttered in surprise, unsure of what to say.

"You're the Amazing Paul, you're supposed to help me fix it," Derek supplied dryly, waving his hands like a magician.

Paul forced himself to disengage from the shock he was experiencing. "I'm guessing you've been dating for a while."

Derek stared at him with a sardonic look suggesting Paul was Captain Obvious.

"You were fighting because you began to care more for her. You didn't know how to show it because you've always expressed yourself through fights. But part of you, part of you finds it wrong, I would imagine, so you pushed her away. You want to control how you feel, Derek, and play the game you've been playing for too long—there's a safety in it, and in the end, you're just like Casey."

"_Excuse me?"_ Derek asked derisively, wondering if going to Paul was the right choice.

"Casey's fighting for control because she wants to know the future, and you just don't make sense to her. She doesn't have the luxury of logic and practicality when it comes to you, Derek. You were unexpected from day one, you never fit in her plans, and this relationship was making her even confused and anxious. Casey's…delicate when it comes to dealing with the unexpected."

"Right, we all know this, she gets upset when her favorite TV shows change their timeslots. But you know Casey, and how her weird brain works. What do you expect me to do?"

"Tell her how you feel."

This appeared to be an answer Derek did not care for, as he rolled his eyes at the suggestion. "I'm here for a solution that isn't the obvious, Paul. So having no feelings talk, that'd be _great. _Anything else?"

"Yes, Derek. Let her go. Let her find someone else. If you can't challenge your own discomfort on this matter, it won't work. Maybe it's for the best." Paul said the last line idly.

Derek's eyes flared. "That isn't true."

"It isn't?" Paul asked innocently.

"We're…we're…fine together."

Paul snorted. "_Fine?_"

"Okay, okay!" Derek said, "We're great together. God."

"And?" Paul prodded, "Just being great with you isn't enough, Derek. She has to know how you feel."

Derek slipped. Something in him cracked, and he took a deep breath.

"She does this thing with her hair when she's concentrating, y'know, and twirls it around her finger, and it drives me crazy. And her eyes, her eyes are just so _alive_, one look from her makes me feel so whipped, which sucks, because I hate feeling whipped, and when she kisses me my mind goes blank and I realize if I'd never have to think again and just stay in that moment forever—" he stopped, before any more ridiculous notions came out of his mouth, red creeping up from his neck.

"Derek," Paul began gently, "there's nothing wrong with caring for someone, certainly not with loving someone. Pushing it away isn't going to _make _it go away. Just because you don't necessarily feel comfortable being romantic all the time, or speaking about your feelings doesn't mean you can't care about someone. It's up to you how you choose to display your romantic and intimate feelings, but when you have a significant other, you need to know that sharing things like that is absolutely vital in a relationship."

That was all well and good for someone who didn't appear to understand the threat of the matter. Loving someone didn't always turn out to be sunshine and roses, it was work, work he had been happy to go without for the longest time.

Until Casey, who just made it difficult in general.

Derek groaned. "Save me the Dr. Phil crap, _please._"

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say, Derek?" Paul asked seriously.

"Yeah," Derek sighed. "I need to talk to Casey about my _feelings. _Are you sure there isn't some brownie recipe I can try instead? Maybe get her a kitten? A new planner?"

"This _is _Casey we're talking about, right?" Paul asked, raising an eyebrow.

Derek snorted. "Right. Yeah. She likes to make it difficult."

"So, what do you think you're going to do?"

"This better work, Paul." He responded, ignoring the question.

Paul suspected it would. Or rather, he was _hoping _it would.

The bell rang signaling the end of homeroom, and he got up, stopping before he opened the door.

"Hey Paul?"

"Yes, I'll let your teacher know you were with me." Paul sighed, with a smile.

Derek pressed his lips together, as though that wasn't what he was thinking about. "Thanks."

The door closed silently.

Paul sighed. "Good _God, _their children are going to be nightmares. I'm switching schools as soon as these two graduate."


	11. Chapter 10

Paul's advice was harder in practice than Derek expected.

Casey wasn't home when he arrived, and he hadn't seen her at school. He killed time by waiting to hear the door open, to hear her voice.

He jumped up when Edwin knocked on the door. "Dinner's ready, bro."

"Not hungry."

"First Casey and now you?"

Derek promised a slow and painful death if Edwin asked one more question, and his kid brother backed off and scampered away.

_-6:02 PM-_

George had come in to lecture Derek about responsibility and kindness.

Derek ignored him.

"Dad, I'm really not in the mood, okay? I had a really shitty day."

His father gave him a look regarding his language, but relented.

_-7:36 PM-_

Nora came in, asking if he felt okay and if he wanted soup.

"No, thanks." He murmured.

She frowned, "Well, I hope there isn't some bug going around the house. Of course, Casey said she's staying at Emily's so, maybe it's nothing. Get some sleep, okay?"

Not knowing she had given him information he needed, she smiled and shut the door.

So she was hiding from him. The idea hurt him more than he expected.

He could go over to Emily's, but it didn't seem like the type of environment a guy preferred when talking about feelings and possibly groveling. Derek grimaced, finding it nauseating to think about.

He could call on his cell, but Casey could always say no. Maybe he could trick her into it, say he was Edwin.

Or maybe he could have a certain little sister steal a different cell phone for him. A slow smile grew across his face.

"_Smarti!"_

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Emily had been watching Casey lay on a pillow on the floor, silently pretend to read the same page in her text book. No amount of questions or prodding would get her to open up about the things that were obviously bothering her.

It bothered her, because Casey was never one for keeping secrets from her, not usually. The oddest thing, to her, was that not even bringing up Derek—a subject she was more than happy to rant about forever—over the last few months made her talkative.

Especially not tonight.

Emily tried mentioning him, and Casey nearly bit her head off with the murderous stare she gave her. "I said I don't want to talk about him, Em," she snapped, "Please stop bringing him up."

She was so confused about Casey's behavior, getting offended didn't even occur to her. Remaining puzzled was all her brain appeared capable of—certainly not the list of math problems in front of her.

"I'm going to get something to drink, want anything?" Emily asked, stretching from her position on her bed.

"No thanks, Em." She responded with a forced smile.

Emily gave a slight nod, forced a smile herself in return and headed to the kitchen, where the Casey weirdness could not follow.

When she left, was, of course, the time Marti made her call. After much coaxing from Derek, and promising a ridiculous amount of sweets, two trips to the amusement park, and a pinkyswear that she wasn't helping pull a prank on Casey, she agreed to weasel her way into getting Lizzie's cell phone for him.

Derek pressed his lips on her forehead and said, "You're my favorite, Smarti, you know that?"

"Just don't forget about what you promised!" The youngest Venturi reminded him, leaving the room with a triumph smile. She wasn't sure why Derek needed to call Casey anyway, but she was more than happy with the outcome of her evening.

Derek shut the door. He found Casey's number easily enough. Calling it took a few paces around the room.

He made the call, and listened to it ring twice.

"Hey Liz, what's up?" she answered, forcing a neutral tone.

"I talked to Paul today. Please don't hang up, Casey." Derek answered quickly, hearing her slight gasp at his voice.

Casey found locking herself in Emily's bathroom, unable to stop the tears from falling and unable to hang up on him.

Hearing his voice had made her realize just how much she missed how much things used to be, before the chronic fights, when it was just them, exploring something new and exciting and exhilarating.

"Hear me out, please?" He asked, his voice soft but desperate, "I'm not good with this."

"With what?"

"You know. The…the…mushy lovey-dovey bullshit." He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar tightness of anxiety and panic curling up into a ball in the pit of his stomach. "Being…honest, I guess."

Casey stayed silent.

"You know…talking…about…" This was all leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Casey offered no sympathy to his obvious struggling, but for once, she was actually lost for words.

"Emotional stuff! God!" he said quickly, in an outburst.

"It's not like I didn't know that," stated Casey unhelpfully.

Derek sighed, frustrated. He tried another approach. "You were right, Casey."

_That _peaked her interest. "About what?"

He held his eyes on his hands. "You said," _Deep breath, Venturi_. "You said I was scared to care for you."

"A-and. Um. I…I am." God, could he sound any more of a retard?

"What are you saying, Derek?" Casey asked, slightly surprised, but mostly curious.

When he looked at her, _really_ looked at her, he saw a beautiful, talented girl he was otherwise smitten with. Yes, she was the bane of his existence, and yes, half the time he'd probably get extremely annoyed with her, and he _hated _her monthaversies, he hated how worked up she got about stupid homework assignments, he hated how she thought she was right about everything. But he loved her, somehow.

He took a breath. "I talked to Paul. I told him the truth. And…and, he said, well, he said we were fighting 'cos I was spending too much time pushing you away, and that it was confusing for you and you're not good with…with not knowing exactly what things are and how they fit in Your Life Plan and your endless rules and I think he's right."

"You told him we were together?" Casey seemed shocked, but he wasn't sure if that was going to work against him.

"Well, I said, we were dating and then it got difficult and then we broke up and I needed his help 'cos I don't want it ending this way, Case."

Casey slumped against the edge of the bathtub, adjusting her phone against her ear. "I'm sorry, Derek," she whispered, the tears in her voice evident now, "I just…"

He ignored it, knowing if he stopped talking now it'd be impossible to say what he needed to. "Paul said the problem was that I was pushing you away, and he said I needed to fix that. And I swear I've said it a million times in my head a million different ways and I'm not good at this, this talking-about-feelings Lifetime crap you adore so, just…I love you, Casey."

All she could do was listen, and let him talk, and cry some more, even though she wasn't sure why she was crying now.

"…And it scared the shit out of me. And the idea that…that I couldn't be with you the way I wanted, not really, it made me bitter and it made me angry and I fought with you because I wanted you. I know that sounds stupid but I'd get jealous of some guy talking to you so I'd start a fight just to get him to fuck off and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I made it hard and I'm sorry I didn't figure it out earlier and I'm sorry for everything, Case. But please, don't give up on me."

There was a short pause as Casey processed what he said.

"I couldn't give up on you," she said finally, "Because I love you too."

It was the sappy-Casey answer he needed. His lips curled into a smile, and he was thankful no one could see it, because he was certain it looked stupid. "Can you come home now?"

She laughed. "Once it doesn't look like I've been crying in the bathroom while on the phone with you."

"You McDonalds," Derek teased gently, "Cry over everything."

"Oh, please, I saw you cry during the dog's death scene in _I am Legend._" Casey scoffed with a smile.

"_Slightly _tearing up and crying are two different things!" he said defensively.

"You're not as tough as you think, Venturi; you're a marshmallow."

"Maybe for you, Case." He admitted quietly.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

After feigning sickness at Emily's, and profusely apologizing to her mother for coming home at a late hour, Casey was home.

Nora frowned, sleepily, pressing her hand to her forehead. "You do look flushed, dear, and Derek's been in his room all night, seems like you two must have caught something. Why don't you stay home tomorrow? I'll call the school in the morning."

"Thanks, mom," she said, barely keeping her façade up, "I'm going to go to sleep now, sorry to wake you."

"It's no problem dear," Nora said, kissing her on the cheek, "I hope you feel better."

Casey walked up the stairs to her room, waiting outside her door, listening for her mother's return to her own bedroom. When she was certain the woman wouldn't be getting up again anytime soon, she tiptoed to the bedroom beside her, entering as silently as she could.

She found the edge of the bed, a gasp catching in her throat as Derek wrapped two arms around her, pulling her near.

"Kept me waiting long enough. I'm impressed you managed to avoid walking into something," Derek murmured, his voice conveying the smile she couldn't quite see.

Her hair tickled his neck as she leaned in to capture his lips, uncharacteristically ignoring his comment.

"Stay," He whispered after a few moments, "I can set the alarm early."

Casey considered telling him about Nora's plans, but decided not to. A plan was falling into place.

Derek interpreted her silence as hesitance. "I promise I'll save my dashing charm and plans of seduction for another night."

"Okay," she agreed with a small laugh, glad he couldn't read her mind, and found her way beneath the covers, "For a little while."


	12. Chapter 11

At 10:45 am, when Casey was awake with the certainty that her mother and the rest of the family was gone for the day, and the driveway's absence of parental vehicles confirmed this, she smiled. Lying to miss school wasn't something that particularly bothered her, the homework she would miss was an annoyance at best.

Having a day off from the real lies that had been consuming her—the ones that preserved her relationship with Derek—was something she needed. That they both needed.

She snuck over to Derek's room, peeked inside, and found him fast asleep. Her smile grew. It would give her time to put her plan in motion. Stepping back, careful to avoid the floorboard that creaked, she left him still slumbering, heading shower quickly.

Dressing with equal urgency, she pulled on a tight-fitting v-neck top and dark jeans. She put on some foundation and mascara, outlining her lips with creamsicle-flavored chapstick. It was Derek's favorite flavor, after all.

She wrote on a post-it note, _"Winner makes the loser breakfast. First clue: Ammunition is in the bathroom. P.S.: We have a sick day."_

Her hand pocketed the post-it stack and pen. There were four toy guns and twenty-four Styrofoam bullets in the games closet. Taping the note very snugly against a foam bullet, she inserted it into the toy gun, testing it. It exited weakly, managing a distance of about a foot.

What it lacked in speed, it made up for in its message deliverance abilities. She took two of the guns and eleven of the remaining bullets and hid them next to Derek's toothbrush. Casey hoped he would take the hint.

Sneaking over the creaky floorboard again, she peeked into the boy's bedroom again. His body curled, facing her direction, mouth slightly agape. Casey smirked. So unaware. She snuck over closer, aiming the message at his heart.

It landed perfectly, but the boy didn't stir.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Casey murmured, rolling her eyes. She hadn't considered this possibility. Derek rolled over, away from her.

She spied his megaphone cloaked by the shadows and a mountain of clothes whose cleanliness was questionable. Well, she would have to take the obnoxious route. She took back the bullet, pocketing it for her reserves.

Going to the main floor, poised at the foot of the stairs, Casey stated, _"Derek Venturi, you lazy cad!" _

Derek awoke suddenly, startled. He stumbled out of his room, squinting at the girl he was sure had gone insane.

"_I'm hunting you down with Nerf guns in eight minutes."_

"Will you stop that? There are other people in this house, you—"

"Yeah, I told mom and she said she's disowning us and everyone's staying at your Aunt Mary's." She responded casually, off the speaker.

Despite the fact that Derek didn't _have _an Aunt Mary, he sputtered out, _"What?" _

Casey giggled. "Stop having a heart attack, they think we're sick, I'm improvising here."

He glared at her. "You're making me chocolate-chip pancakes."

"Ooh, you have to beat me first. Your ammunition is in the bathroom. Take much longer and I'm not opposed to winning by shooting you before you brush those teeth."

"I'm so getting you for this," He said, pointing at her warningly, disappearing into the bathroom.

After Derek had prepared himself, he slunk across walls of the hallway creaking his neck around the corner. Nothing.

"_Oh, Casey…" _he sang out, attempting to get her to reveal her hiding place. No dice. He frowned, glancing at his bedroom for a moment. A slow smile grew across his face.

Diving into the bedroom, he grabbed the pillows on his bed, returning to his spot. "Case?" he called, smirk growing.

"Quit it, Venturi, you're not winning that way," Casey responded somewhere. She knew she should have taken the spot in the closet before he left the bathroom, but she was certain he was listening for her ascent up the stairs.

Suddenly, a blur of blue caught her eye and she leapt out from her hiding spot beneath the stairs, shooting immediately.

Then she felt a stinging hit forehead.

And heard Derek's laughter.

When Casey saw the pillows on the stairs, she realized what he'd done. While she hadn't planned for their little war to last long (she _did _want breakfast after all), she hadn't intended it to end so soon.

"So, about those pancakes…?" Derek said, his smirk only deepening when his eyes took in her scowl.

"Oh, shut up, I'm sure you would have burned them anyway," Casey said, dropping the toy gun on the couch.

Derek sauntered over to her, hands on her shoulders. "Keep telling yourself that, Case. We both know I won." He leaned in further, lips closer now, as if to taunt her more.

But the scent of her chapstick drew him closer and she smiled against his lips.

The boy drew back, lips reddened. "Well now I'm just hungrier. Chop-chop, Case," He murmured huskily.

Casey rolled her eyes, the smile on her face betraying the pretense of annoyance, and went into the kitchen, grabbing the things she needed.

Derek watched as she prepared the mix, a generous amount of chocolate chips sinking into the batter with each stir of her hand. He supposed he could have started a conversation, made a quip about the batter on her cheek—how exceptionally talented she was at getting food on her face despite being older than Marti.

But he was content to watch. His silence was odd to Casey at first, as she caught him simply watching a few times, but she seemed to enjoy seeing his face void of a superficial glare or scowl.

Derek rarely saw Casey so carefree. She usually had worry in the edges of her expression, a sense of determination and fixation on Doing the Right Thing.

He supposed a lot of people would say that was just Casey, she always looked like she was working on something, figuring out some utterly important life question, like whether she should plan her classes for her PhD after finishing her extra credit assignments or squeeze it in during her shower.

But with him she seemed to release the binds that tied her to the ever-exhausting need to be the mature one, the adult, the role model. She seemed to remember she was only barely seventeen and that not every single action she took had to be part of some greater plan.

After three pancakes lay piled on two plates, Casey dropped the pan into the sink and announced, "Done."

He took the plate gratefully, digging in.

"'Ese ar gud, Cae." Derek managed around a large bite at the girl who took the stool beside him.

"Unlike your table manners," Casey teased, taking a dainty bite.

"Love you too."

She smiled again, kissing his cheek.

"I was talking to the pancakes." Derek said with a grin, hearing her scoff and dodging the shove Casey intended to give him.

"Jerk." She murmured lightly.

He kissed her, feeling her body relax against his. It never failed to prove intoxicating, the way her tension could disappear so easily by his touch. She stood up, parting from him briefly to guide him toward the couch.

_Oh. _Derek smirked, pushing the toy gun away and laying on it lengthwise, pulling the soft form of Casey closer, lips on her neck, hands roaming.

She took his face in her hands, putting her lips to his.

Twenty minutes later, when she drew away for a breath, settling her head on his chest, she felt the rumble of his voice.

"I'm going to try to be less of one," he murmured, "A jerk, I mean."

Casey lifted an eyebrow, though he couldn't see it. "You're never going to stop pranking me."

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he admitted.

Casey laughed. "Wait 'til I tell Em you made a Harry Potter reference."

"That's just cruel, Case. You know the fact I read that—_to Marti_—is highly classified information." Derek stated defensively.

No one besides Casey knew he took the liberty of reading the entire series without Marti. For research, he claimed—he had to ensure it was age-appropriate.

Casey found a place for her arm on the couch beside him to prop herself up, "Relax, Venturi. Your rep is safe. Besides, it'd just make girls love you more with the story you'd feed them." Her nose wrinkled at the thought.

"Jealous?" The boy murmured, grinning.

"More nauseated," Casey responded flippantly, remembering a night some months before where Derek brought a date home to quell the parents' curiosity of his supposed lack-of-dates, "That obnoxious laugh and hand-on-your-shoulder combo gets old. Especially when it's some bimbo in our own house."

Derek's expression grew grave.

Observing the shift and concerned of a fight brewing, she continued quickly, "I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm being honest."

He didn't respond for a moment, appearing pensive. "Do you want to tell the truth, then?"

Casey looked startled, her eyes searching his expression for any hint of jest. She couldn't find it.

"No…no, I don't think so. Not right now, when we still have senior year."

It was the answer he was expecting, but Derek wasn't sure what his response would have been.

Predictably, this was the question Casey had to ask. "Do you?"

Derek cracked a grin at her, raising his eyebrows. "You _do _realize you're on top of me wearing a low-cut shirt and that getting you out of it is all I want right now? Seriously, kind of hard to think."

"Convince me, Venturi." She challenged in a whisper, leaving the question behind and watching his eyes light up.

"My bedroom," he murmured against her neck, the words sounding heavy, _"Now." _One hand ran up her chest roughly, the other mimicking the pressure between her legs, causing her back to arch.

She looked down, her eyes muddled with a sort of intensity causing a pull from his navel, and wordlessly removed herself off the couch, making him follow without thinking about it.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Derek brought her closer, kisses rougher now, the frenzied need running through his veins. Tangled on the bed, her breath grew ragged as his hands sent waves of pleasure through her.

Casey stopped him briefly, removing her top and bra, her lips crashing back on his bare chest when he did the same. Despite what some may have thought, Casey wasn't opposed to many methods of sating the desire that she felt.

It was only moments later that the last articles of clothing they wore were too much of a nuisance to ignore.

This time was different. It felt different, and they both knew.

"Do you have…" she trailed off, her eyes showing the vulnerability she wanted to conceal.

"Yes." He answered, swallowing hard, "Are you sure? I don't…want to hurt you."

"You won't," Casey murmured, leaning in to kiss him, "Just go slow,"

"I will," he responded, moving his lips down to her neck, "Can't just jump into it, Case, jeez, that's just a waste of my talents."

A few hours later, reality was catching up to them. Casey found herself unreasonably emotional about the fact that she couldn't stay with the boy curled up next to her. She pressed her lips to his forehead.

"Are you okay?" Derek asked drowsily, unaware of the time.

"I'm okay, but everyone will be home soon. I should go." She busied herself by redressing.

"Case?"

Derek saw her look at him in question. "I do love you, you know."

She leaned forward, closer to his ear, her smile evident even at a whisper. "I love you too. Now _s__leep_."

He closed his eyes, finding the suggestion a good idea.

She ensured she had everything and opened the window before leaving, giving Derek one last look as she closed the door.

Casey was good at hiding things because she was a strategist and planner. This meant she knew exactly what needed to be done before anyone even got to the driveway.

Everything was returned back where it needed to be—the dishes washed, dried, and put away, the toys returned, the couch pillows fluffed, telltale signs of Derek rummaging around by leaving cereal and medication out.

Satisfied with her handiwork, she took a second shower, longer than it needed to be, lost in her thoughts. Remembering every moment.

Who would have thought Derek Venturi was going to be her first? Certainly not her.

But she didn't regret it. Not in the least.


	13. Chapter 12

The next day, Em asked where Casey had been. She said she was sick.

"What about Derek?"

"Oh," Casey said, forcing an air of neutrality, "He was too sick to bother me. We didn't fight for once. Made up for that today, of course."

She launched into a fabricated tale about how he had left the milk out to go sour intentionally, though Emily privately thought there was more than one possibility for it. Derek always got the blame first. She wondered if it would ever change.

Waving goodbye to her friend, she went to homeroom thankful to not have to listen to the same re-hashed story. It was odd, how similar her complaints had gotten as of late.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

To say Casey didn't still have her anxieties about her relationship was entirely wrong. A week after their reconciliation, she still found herself worried about falling back into the same pattern of fighting like before, and was quick—too quick—to apologize when she and Derek even marginally edged into verbal sparring.

She was oblivious to this, of course, thinking she was simply better at owning up to her mistakes.

"_De-rek!_ You said you were fine with me having the TV at 8 on Tuesdays!"

Derek looked at the girl towering above him, irritation quickly festering into anger.

"Well, yeah, Case, but _The Fosters _is a lame show. You're lame enough as it is, I think it's a bad influence," he feigned concern, hiding a smirk when he managed to dodge her next futile grab for the remote.

"_The_ _point is," _she ground out between gritted teeth, ignoring the insult, "we made an agreement, you can't go back on it now."

"This is really for your own good," Derek maintained, nodding very seriously, "Consider it an intervention for whatever latent coolness you may potentially possess. You're just a late bloomer, I'm sure things will come together for you soon."

"Do you have to be such an immature idiot? Marti's more mature than you!" she snapped, lunging at him. Casey wrestled him to the floor, her nearness providing enough of an advantage for him to loosen his grip on the remote. She stood up, smoothed her hair, sneered at his laughing, and took a seat at the couch.

Casey's tone matched the stern one on her face. "I'm sorry Derek, I shouldn't have said those things."

Derek started to laugh again, and she looked at him with a mix of disdain and confusion.

"Did you hit your head during practice?" She asked

He narrowed his eyes at her in confusion, unable to make sense of her demeanor. He whispered, lest a family member heard, "Casey, I was just messing with you, you know. I like getting a rise out of you."

"I just don't want to start fighting again," She whispered back.

Derek leaned toward her, brushing a knuckle across his cheek, "Don't worry about it, Spacey. It's how we've always been."

Casey supposed he was right. She knew when he was really mad and when he was just being Derek. So why couldn't she let it go?

Someone started down the stairs. He drew back sharply, rising to his feet. "Enjoy your lame show."

"Yeah, thanks for making me nearly miss it." She replied, with a sarcastic smile for Lizzie's benefit, who plopped down beside her.

"Stop fighting, the show's starting!" Lizzie told the eldest McDonald, eyes fixed to the screen.

That didn't seem to matter to Casey however, whose thoughts kept returning to the worries she was having. It was time for a visit with Paul.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The following morning, Paul allowed a content sigh to slip past his lips as he took a sip from his coffee mug. Mornings like this were his favorite. There was no one to bother him at this hour, and he could spend a decent hour or some enjoying his coffee and his silence.

He supposed that he could spend time straightening the papers strewn across his desk, or take the trash out (which was already overflowing), or brush up on the case files of the kids he saw tomorrow, or even work ahead in his online psych class (the latter he took for fun; it also gave the school a reason to keep him).

_Nah, _he thought, smiling, _mornings like this are for coffee and silence._

After that thought, his door was opened with such force the frames on his walls shook. Paul sighed. That could only mean one thing.

"Casey, have a seat."

The girl obeyed, sighing. Secretly, she was quite thankful she wouldn't have to be the one to tell Paul the truth she'd been carrying around for a while, since Derek had done it for her. But the nagging fear of things falling apart—well, what did that mean?

"I take it you didn't get back together with Derek?"

Casey seemed startled at the deduction. "What?"

Paul set his mug down. "You haven't come in for a while. I assumed you stuck with your initial decision."

"No, no. We're back together. Things are better, a lot better, really."

The man clasped his hands and sighed. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

"Well, we don't fight like we used to. He's better about not shutting me out." Casey explained, the tinge of uncertainty not gone from her eyes.

"…But?" Paul asked gently.

"I'm worried it's just temporary. That we'll go back to being that way. I apologize when we don't really fight. I think I'd apologize for just breathing wrong. Derek says it's normal for us to argue and that I shouldn't apologize." Casey blurted out.

He'd led Derek to self-awareness he needed, but not Casey.

"You had a rough few months before the break-up, it's going to take some time. You feel vulnerable and that's okay. As long as you're not dealing with it ineffectively by fighting with Derek about it, and talking to him about it, it's okay. It sounds like you did talk to him about it."

Casey looked puzzled.

"You probably know the difference between your usual rapport and actual fighting. A relationship is about taking advice from the other person too," Paul said, "I know you're not used to Derek being right, but it sounds like good advice to me. Give it time, Casey. You doubt yourself too much."

Casey was quiet for a moment. He made a good point. Derek being right was something she never really considered, unfairly so.

She wasn't used to feeling this vulnerable, this attached, to anyone before. She _knew _Derek. She knew him better than almost anyone.

Yet she doubted herself, like she doubted herself with so many other things, to the point where she was conjuring up potential reasons to give up, false conflicts.

"Thank you, Paul." Casey said, smiling, looking considerably less uncertain, "I think you're right."

She didn't bring up her parents or siblings—those were issues for another time. They were fears she wasn't ready to deal with yet.

Right now she needed to believe things were going to be okay. And they were, the fear that suddenly things would get worse was much less paralyzing; to her, that was what was most important.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Lizzie was irritated. She always watched _The Fosters _with Casey, it was their thing. It reminded her of the times before the Venturis, when it was just her and Casey most of the time. She missed that occasionally.

Having something to share that was just theirs, even if it was simply a show, meant something to her.

But Casey wasn't here. She'd texted to ask where she was and got some story about going to the mall in response.

It was childish, she supposed, to be so angry. Casey had a right to do whatever she liked. Sure, she knew Liz probably was waiting but things came up, right?

It was odd that an hour long time slot she penciled in specifically around her studying time could be extended without some panic attack about school, but the girl was too upset to really think about that.

It wasn't as though she made friends very easily these days, especially with girls. They whispered behind her back and spread rumors. Ed knew, but she made him promise not to tell anyone.

"They're just jealous, Liz." He'd said in return, forcing a smile. It was the typical canned response to the special kind of bitch treatment preserved within preteen girls on the cusp of high school, the treatment that defined your next four years.

Besides, what did they have to be jealous about? She wasn't terribly pretty, she wasn't particularly gifted at much besides making fundraisers for things they dubbed lame, and apparently her worst flaw was that she wasn't a "proper girl", whatever that meant.

Ed told her time and time again they were just being mean, and she believed him, but the point was, she didn't fit in. She couldn't fit in, she wasn't made for it somehow. Even Casey managed to fit in somewhere.

But not Lizzie.

So now, more than ever, she missed the times when it was just her and Casey. When they were at their other school, and she could walk through a hallway without hearing some lie about what she'd done the night before or had to pretend she didn't hear the insult hurled her way.

_That _was why Tuesdays at 8 pm were so important.

She felt abandoned. She felt guilty for being so angry. But most of all, she wished she could simply make things okay again.

Nora jolted her out of her thoughts. "Dinner, Liz."

"I'm not hungry, mom. I'll eat later, I promise." She forced a smile.

Her mother regarded her quietly, as though she wanted to ask a million questions, but thought better of it when Lizzie coaxed her out with, "Really, mom. Thanks, though."

Lizzie stayed up for a while, hearing Derek's car arrive. Looking out the window, she saw Casey. She looked happy, smiling, laughing at Derek.

Wrinkling her brows, she found a new source of anger at the sight. Casey picked Derek?

_Maybe it's just some Casey operation to get them to stop fighting so much, that's pretty important. Don't you want her to be happy?_ Liz thought to herself.

Selfishly, her head answered, _I need her more than Derek does._

Casey seemed startled when Lizzie greeted her. "Hey, Liz, what's up? Sorry about tonight,"

"It's okay," her sister lied, "What'd you do at the mall?"

There was hesitance in Casey's eyes, as though she wasn't sure what to say. "Derek and Sam went to check out video games, I picked up some books." Her hand rose in the air, pausing her thought, digging into her bag, "Which reminds me, I got you this."

In her hands was the next Hunger Games book. She'd been waiting for it for a while, and there was a waitlist at the library.

A small part of her warmed at the gesture. "Thanks." She said, hugging her sister tightly, sorry she'd thought such mean things.

Casey was bewildered and relieved. She was thankful she'd made Derek stop to let get her this book.

It wasn't like she could tell her sister she'd been on a date, after all.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Nora found the note the next afternoon while putting a basket of clean clothes in her stepson's room.

It read, _"Winner makes the loser breakfast. First clue: Ammunition is in the bathroom. P.S.: We have a sick day."_

It was in her daughter's handwriting.

She couldn't make sense of the note, but she was able to deduct one thing. Casey was keeping secrets. She never kept secrets from her, she kept secrets from Derek.

Except for this one. Worry began gnawing at her.

Accusing Casey of lying to stay home wouldn't get her anywhere. Derek would likely be just as difficult. So she put the note in her pocket to hide later, pretended she hadn't seen it, and decided to pay closer attention.

She couldn't bring herself to mention it to George. She wasn't sure why. That evening as she stared at the ending credits of a film she had barely followed, it was eating away at her.

George, who had been half-asleep beside her, snapped out of his daze when she said his name

"George," She said, "You don't think the kids will ever…have feelings for each other?"

"Hm?" He asked with a yawn, brows furrowed.

"Romantic feelings?" Nora asked patiently, brushing back his hair.

He wondered why she was bringing this up. The film had been about that dancing penguin, whatever it was called. "Of course not, Nora. Derek and Casey hate each other, and Edwin and Lizzie are best friends. With our luck, _they'll_ start hating each other too."

George fluffed his pillows and slipped back into sleep easily. Nora watched her sleeping husband, jealous of his ability to slip into a delusion so easily. She had a nagging feeling something big was coming. Chances are, she wouldn't like it.

_Still, _Nora though, scoffing at herself, _Derek and Casey? Are you _crazy, _woman?_

Nora pondered over this. it simply wasn't logical.

"I have nothing to worry about," Nora told herself reluctantly, and turned off the TV.

Her worries whispered her into sleep.


	14. Part 3, Chapter 13

Derek's final hockey games were something the whole family attended, and while he usually hated having to keep his guard up around Casey, the games were an exception.

Mostly because after games, Casey was usually willing to give him a massage, which also usually ended up with her in his bed, muffling her mouth with his hand. But also because he liked knowing she was there, watching him, seeing him excel at something.

_Focus on the puck, Venturi. It's all riding on you. _He could feel the sweat drop down his face. It stung his eyes but he forced them to stay trained on the black object that was being swapped back and forth. Faintly he could feel the burn of someone ramming into his shoulder; he reeled slightly, but regained his balance. _Dammit. Where'd the puck go?_

_There it is. _Derek though, a smirk growing on his face. Sam sent it his way, and he sent it home with as much force as he could muster.

"_AND THERE IT IS, FOLKS! DEREK VENTURI HAS JUST WON THE FINAL GAME FOR TORONTO HIGH SCHOOL!"_

The game was over, the crowds were cheering. All because of him. Derek Venturi, who got shitty grades and wasn't always the best person. But hockey? Hockey was his thing. It _made _him worth something.

Exhilaration overwhelmed his senses. He loved games like this. The ones where he could truly feel proud of himself and no one could take it away from him. He searched the stands as he skated back to his chair. Nora, George, Edwin, Lizzie…Marti was waving excitedly, strangling a stuffed cat in the process of her excitement. He looked through the line of his family members again.

_No Casey._

"You promised this time, Case." Derek muttered, heading down into the locker room. He ripped off his shoulder pads and skates off with fury. He took off his helmet, ran his fingers through his wet hair. Breathing heavily, he rammed a fist into one of the steel lockers in front of him.

His teammates rushed in, hogging up all the space, and consequently the silence. Derek sighed and distracted himself by washing up.

Fifteen minutes later, Derek had all his hockey gear in his bag and he went out to meet everyone. Casey had not just slipped away to go to the restroom, like he'd hoped. Nope, she just hadn't showed.

"Congrats, bro!" Edwin cheered. Derek pasted an overly-confident smile on his face. Nora and George patted him on the back, Lizzie ditto'd Edwin's remark and Marti leapt into his arms, cheerfully commenting on his last play.

Everyone was happy for him, was proud of him, but he took little enjoyment in it.

He stepped out onto the wet concrete, staring at the refection on the ground cast by the streetlights. The cold bit into his skin, and he sighed. Casey had known how important this game was to him.

Marti enthusiastically asked for Wendy's, and he murmured a reply of agreement. The kids clamored and filled up the silence as they asked for their orders. Derek didn't order anything. Nobody noticed. Just like nobody noticed one _crucial _family member was missing.

Everyone was half into their burgers or chicken sandwiches or nuggets, except Lizzie, who was on some anti-meat crusade or something and opted out of a meal, when Derek finally asked, "So where's Casey?

The silence returned, and everyone stared at him. Thankfully, they were still in the parking lot.

"Dude," Edwin exclaimed, "why do you _care?_"

"I don't." Derek muttered unconvincingly.

The ride home was silent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The first thing Derek did when he got home, excluding opening the door and tossing his hockey stuff into the laundry room, was march up to his _own _room and set Korn blaring. He didn't even like Korn; it was just something to bug Casey.

Like clockwork, Casey's angry steps quickly made their way to his door, and she opened it with vicious force. "_Derek. How many times do I have to ask you to turn it down?" _Casey asked, in a low, guttural tone that was strangely intimidating.

Derek leaned back into his chair. "Close the door, Case."

Casey evil-eyed him.

"Close the door." He said again, but softly.

Casey obliged, sitting on his bed with a frown.

It was his turn to yell. "You missed my game. You know, the game you said you'd be at?"

Casey stared at him with her exhausted eyes. "I'm sorry Derek. I totally spaced. I was working on AP stuff for finals, the tests are coming up next week. God, I'm sorry."

Derek's strength weakened. Crap. He couldn't stay mad at her.

"You said you'd be there." This was slowly making Derek feel like the bad guy.

"I know," Casey whispered, "I'm sorry, I should have been."

"We won." He said simply.

"Good." She said softly, but he knew she was just saying that. She was already wrapped up in her little world of lists and homework.

Derek surrendered. "Visit me later?"

"I'll try."

She left quietly, and Derek sighed, heading to the bathroom. First, they were fighting so much, it threatened to end their relationship. Now Casey was so busy, she didn't even fight with him.

I will get her to take Friday night off, Derek vowed silently.

At that thought, Casey pushed the bathroom door open and slipped into the room with him. She locked the door.

"Need a study break?" Derek hinted.

"_Yes." _Casey sighed. "I really am sorry, Derek."

"I know," he said, kissing her. "You can make it up to me, though."

Casey wrinkled her nose. "You smell of sweat."

Derek rolled his eyes. "That usually follows physical activity, Miss Priss."

"Whatever. You still smell." She sniped.

"You're so damn moody, Case."

"I'm _tired."_ She growled.

"You're the one who came in here!"

"You're not the one busting your ass trying to get into college, either!"

Derek sighed and rested his forehead against hers. "I'm _trying_, Case." He admitted in a whisper.

Casey sighed tiredly. "I know. We both knew this wasn't going to be easy."

They both stood in silence, their eyes conveniently distracted by something else than each other.

"Derek." Pause. "I love you."

"Love you too." He mumbled back.

Another pause followed.

"Good night."

Casey left. He ran the shower, stripping out of his clothes.

But right now she was so stressed with college and (though she didn't admit it) was worried about _them_, it was like worrying took up all her time, not their relationship.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey sat on her bed, sighing. Her mother came in, sitting beside her.

Hesitantly she said, "Is everything all right?" Casey stared at her mother. For a second she wondered what her mother would say if she told her of Derek and their relationship.

Everything was _not _all right, but they were working through it. It was just tough. "Yeah, mom, everything's okay." She forced a smile onto her face.

Nora was smarter than that; she knew her daughter was lying. It was a boy, probably. She looked at her daughter, saw the array of college applications and scholarship letters.

Still, it was a boy. Nora knew this for a fact.

And she had the gnawing feeling it was Derek. And this time, it wasn't a prank. It was something different.

Nora stood up. "Okay, dear. Try to get some sleep."

She exited her room, and ran into Derek in the process.

Nora forced a smile on her face, this strange, strained smile. "Derek." She acknowledged, as if she didn't know her own stepson. Perhaps she didn't. Not at all.

"…Nora." Derek murmured uncertainly, before going into his room.

He could read her face. Nora was suspicious. It was only a matter of time.

Only a matter of time before things got worse.

"_Crap." _Derek sighed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was a Friday. A glorious, wonderful Friday—one without the restrictions of hockey practice, or chores, or detention, or a grounding. He was _free._ And Casey _would_ be spending it with him, whether she agreed or she had to drag her into the car; that girl was a walking disaster—not to mention he wanted a little bit of fun. In various ways, of course...

Derek dumped his stuff into his room, then barged into Casey's. she stirred from her slumer and peered at him through a mass of tangled dark hair. "Urgh." She moaned.

"Oh, look," Derek said cheerfully, "It's the creature from the black lagoon!"

Casey blew her hair out of her face—it didn't do much—and slumped back into her awkward position: one leg off the bed, arms sprawled out, her back arched. "What's up with _you?_" Casey sneered.

Derek sat next to her, a smirk quickly growing across his face. "Now, now, Princess. If you aren't nice, I won't give you the surprise I've set up for you."

"Does it involve you leaving?" Casey murmured.

Derek pushed her heavy hair back, stared into her face. "No, darling." He said in a sing-songy voice. "Quite the contrary."

"You aren't going to leave me alone, are you?" She groaned.

"Nope. Pack up, Princess. We're taking the weekend off."

"We're _what?!_" Casey screeched. "_No! _I have too much stuff to get done!"

He kissed her; a chaste kiss. "Mm. Compromise. We'll come back tomorrow instead of Sunday. Now pack up."

Casey sighed forlornly.

"You _so _don't appreciate me," Derek called back to her in falsetto.

She began to pack her things.

Derek smiled victoriously.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Do Mom and George know about this?" Casey asked uncertainly.

Derek ruffled her hair, popped in a CD, and started the car. "Don't worry your pretty little head. I've got it all handled."

Casey had to admit, it was nice to let someone else deal with the organization. Maybe Derek _was _right; maybe she _did _need a break.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You'll see, Case." He said teasingly. "First, we're stopping at the grocery store to buy food that clogs our arteries and has, like, fifty million calories."

The store was bustling and Casey sighed wearily. She had to _pretend _again. That she wasn't dating Derek. "C'mon, babe. Junk food time!" he disappeared.

_Babe. _He had called her _babe. _And it wasn't even hidden in a joking or snide remark. It was just…_babe. _Her heart, admittedly, swelled, and she smiled.

She leapt after him. He was at the chips aisle, trying to choose from Cheetos Puffs and Sunchips.

"Sunchips. It's healthier." She said. He glanced at her—then glanced again. She was _smiling._ A real relaxed, happy smile. He raised a brow. That was a little odd, but then again, his Verturi charm _was _a gift.

"Cheetos it is," Derek said smugly. "Now to the candy aisle!"

"Get some Crunch bars," Casey called, and grabbed his hand.

He gave her a sidelong stare. _Silly girl, _he thought.

He squeezed her hand.

Ten candy bars, one bag of chips, two bags of cookies, and a six-pack of soda later, the two were ready to head out into a weekend of no restrictions.

"_Der-ek!_" Casey whined. "Where are we _going?_"

He ignored her. Twenty minutes later, the car jerked to a stop, and beside them stood a towering hotel.

"You took me to a _hotel_." She said flatly.

"Case, it's by _Niagara Falls. _You girls go crazy for that sort of thing."

"Niagara Falls? _Really_?" she squealed. "Ohmigod, _I've never been here!"_

He rolled his eyes. _Precisely._

"Let's get our room first and then I'll take you there."

The skinny, stuffy guy at the reception desk eyed Derek as if he were gum on the back of his shoe. "We have no openings," He droned.

"Venturi." He said simply.

The man's eyes flickered to the list beside him, and he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Room seventeen." He handed him two card keys. They both picked up their stuff, headed to the elevator.

"Oh, kids," the man called out, "Please don't be _too _loud. There _are _some people who want to sleep."

Casey blushed and Derek glared. "You've messed with the wrong person, _Ebenezer—_your days are numbered here."

Casey knew it was an empty threat, and the man did too. "Have fun, kids." He said sweetly, before the elevator swallowed them up.

"God, what an _ass_." Derek griped, fuming.

"Are you implying you're gay?" Casey joked, punching him in the shoulder. Derek glared at her.

"Lighten up," she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck in the process, "Let's enjoy the time we have."

Derek's head lolled back.

"_Case._" He whispered.

"What?" She said, nuzzling his skin.

"The door's open. And little children are staring at us."

Casey whirled around, and indeed, two small children with tricycles stared at her, open mouthed.

"Er… Um…Bye!" Casey said, and dragged Derek along with her.

"We're going the wrong way." Derek muttered.

Casey dragged him the opposite way, and the two children stared at them again.

She shoved the card key in, and the door slammed shut.

"Casey, Casey, dear." Derek said in that sing-songy tone, "Who knew you had a dominative side?"

_Babe. _Casey smiled again.

"C'mere, you idiot." She said, digging her fingernails into his shirt and pulling him close, "I need to kiss you."

And kiss him she did.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A loud, shrill sound jolted Casey out of her pleasant half-slumber. "Derek," she whispered hoarsely, her lips still swollen and red, and the number of bruises on her neck still growing.

"Mm." Derek grunted in a whiny tone, "I'm _comfortable._" He said, snuggling into her breasts with a smile.

Casey rolled her eyes. She grabbed his cell off the beside table, answering it abruptly. "Yes?" she said, annoyed.

"_Casey?! Where are you?!"_

She swatted him on the head, shoving him off of her. "I thought you _took care of it!_"

Derek gave her a sheepish grin and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "White lie?"

Casey groaned and gave him the cell. "I'll be in the bathroom."

Derek waved her away. "Hey, Nora. What's up?"

"Where. Are. You?" Nora asked between gritted teeth.

"Oh. I took Space Case on a little adventure. Y'know. So she wouldn't drown in those books? We'll be back soon."

Nora sighed. "She _has _been working a lot. Still, it would have been nice to know, Derek."

"Sorry." He said, in that way that suggested he wasn't the least bit sorry.

"It's…all right, Derek. Just be careful. We'll talk about this later. Don't think you've wormed your way out of a punishment."

"Yes, ma'am," he said sarcastically. "See you later, Nora."

He ended the call.

Nora, on the other end, sighed worriedly. Yes, her daughter needed a break. But…alone? With Derek?

_What have I done?_ Nora thought, feeling the stress run through her veins, _God, I hope I don't regret this. God, I hope I'm _wrong.

Derek, while annoyed and a little suspicious of Nora's attitude, pushed those thoughts aside.

"Case!" she poked her head out of the doorway.

"Yes?" she said flatly, still annoyed with him.

"I'm sorry I lied." He stretched out his arms, as though wanting to hold her.

She walked hesitantly toward him. There was a glint in his eye…

"TICKLE ATTACK!"

He crashed her into the soft mattress, and muffled her squeals with his lips.

Casey laughed breathlessly. "Derek?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for dragging me here."

"Anytime."


	15. Chapter 14

Niagara Falls was like a trip to the water park. Or SeaWorld. Anyone who came within five feet of the railing would get soaked. Casey, however, did not know this. And because his beloved Casey did not know this, he used it to his advantage.

"Hey Case." He said, his fingers loosely hanging by his pockets, "Did you bring that white tank top?"

Casey wrinkled her nose at him in confusion. "You mean the one that barely fits me? Yeah. But I was planning on sleeping in it."

He grinned at her, his charm on full wattage. "Wear it, babe."

And, growing weak-kneed at his pet name, she obliged. She, of course, changed in the bathroom and left him to his own imaginative devices as to how the scene would unfold.

However, those devices became a little too stimulating, and he had to think of dying puppies for the rest of the time Casey changed.

She exited the room, and he drank in her bare skin. Maybe this had been a bad idea. She threw on a blue hoodie, zipped it up part way, and smiled at him. Did he detect a sense of evilness in those eyes?

"Ready to go?"

"Mm." he uttered, the sound coming out strangled and breathless. _Damn it._

He held the door open for her and stayed a few paces behind. Needless to say, his eyes were not on the path outside, and he walked into the staircase.

Casey grinned. "I'll be at the car, _Der._"

The man at the desk glared at him—and Derek mirrored his actions.

"I'm never volunteering at an old people's home, Case. They're all evil." Derek said, once he'd gotten to the car. He rubbed his forehead.

Casey swatted him. "You're mean. Old people are nice."

"To you, of course. The old guys probably want to bang you and the old ladies probably think you're so damn cute, just like their thirty thousand year old daughters."

"Derek!" Casey protested, frowning. "Gross!"

"Yeah. Thirty thousand year old women—pretty gross."

Casey simply rolled her eyes at this.

"Wait! Go back to that gas station!" Casey said suddenly, and Derek nearly rammed into the car in front of him.

"Never do that again, Case." He muttered, taking a left and pulling into the parking lot. "What do you _need, _anyway?"

"Disposable camera. I want to get some pictures."

"You mean Girl Scout Casey forgot to pack a _camera?_"

"Oh, shut up. I saw your Campfire Kids photos."

"That never leaves this car."

She left with a victorious smile. Derek sighed, the sigh dwindling into a whine. Couldn't she see she was _killing _him?

The tank top _was_ a bad idea. Casey got into the car, and her jacket was zipped all the way down now, exposing glimpses of her toned stomach and shoulders. Derek gulped.

"Let's go." He said in a strangled whisper. Casey chose not to comment—but she did smile at him innocently, pulling on her seatbelt in a fashion that drew the most attention to her chest.

_You are so evil. _Derek thought whiningly.

"Quick, Derek, let's get a picture of us here!" Casey said, grabbing him into a pose and clicking the camera.

"I didn't even smile." He said flatly.

Casey stuck her tongue out at him. He briefly wondered how skilled she was with her tongue and mouth in general…

"Let's get closer." He blurted out, dragging her to the crosswalk.

They crossed, Casey grabbing his hand, and feeling his tension. Casey smirked at this, but said nothing.

He dragged her to the railing, where the falls were in all their glory, and Casey's eyes lit up. "They're beautiful!"

He didn't even look. Casey looked at him. "Aren't they?" she asked.

"Oh. Uh. Yeah."

She turned his back to the railing, and pressed her own back into him. He could feel her warmth and could smell her hair. Resting his chin against her shoulder (which was sadly covered by her parka, he noted), he faked a smile.

"Ready?"

"Take the picture, already!"

She pressed against him harder. He focused on not letting his smile falter.

"Cheese!"

An hour and a half later, Derek got his revenge. The camera was full, and Casey was soaked to the bone. Her hair hung limply at her sides, and her makeup was running. She had, of course, zipped up her jacket long before she got this soaked, but her pout was worth it.

At the hotel, as he shut the door and locked it, Derek smirked and said, "Nice outfit, Case."

"Shut up, Derek." Casey muttered huffily, peeling off her jacket and hanging it up to dry. "Just for that cruel trick, I get the first shower."

He looked at her, his gaze on her heavy and muddled. "Why don't we share, Princess?"

Casey rolled her eyes. "You wish. No rewards for tricks, _Derry._" She said, closing the bathroom door in his face.

Derek sighed at this and began to change, hanging up his own wet clothes to dry as he pulled them off. Clad in a pair of jeans, he thumbed through the TV guide and flipped to a hockey game, watching it with only a mild sense of interest.

His real interest exited the bathroom with only a towel around her—and the towels hotels usually got were so tiny they barely covered much. _Hallelujah, _Derek thought.

"I forgot to bring a new set of clothes in with me," Casey said sheepishly, watching his roving gaze with a sense of embarrassment.

"You do recall I've seen you naked quite a few times?" Derek pointed out with a smirk, "And that I like you naked?"

She raised an eyebrow, sauntered up to him, and kissed him, pulling his shirt off. He tugged the towel away from her.

"So convenient," he murmured, smirking as she undid his belt, "So impatient."

"Talking too much," Casey replied, pushing him backward and silencing him with her lips, moving them lower slowly.

Take-charge Casey was hot, Derek realized, before coherent thought became difficult.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"You know, I'm hungry." Derek said.

"You're supposed to be all romantic during pillow talk, Derek, not tell the girl you're hungry."

Derek stared at her. "But I am hungry."

Casey rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay. You're beautiful and I love you. Now cry, so we can get dressed and order pizza."

Casey glowered at him, but smiled anyway, like he knew she would.

"How about we get dressed and lie in bed and have pillow talk _while _we eat pizza?"

"A fine idea," she said, looking on her phone for the number of a pizza place.

He kissed on the cheek. "Clothing for you is optional."

She swatted him.

"_Likewise, Venturi."_ She whispered.

"_Pizza." _Derek whispered back, and reached for the phone.

Casey surrendered with a laugh. "I want the Hawaiian style."

"Pinapple on pizza? Gross. I want the Meatlover's."

"You mean, a heart attack on a slice?"

"Half and half?"

"Deal."

Derek ordered, and she slipped out of bed, the cold air causing goosebumps to rise on her skin.

"Domino's? Never mind." Derek said.

"What was that all about?" She asked, reaching for a shirt.

He eyed her hungrily. "Pizza doesn't sound so great anymore. You're on the menu."

He grabbed her wrist and drugged her beneath their sea of blankets. And this time, Casey would be the one slipping into an exhausted slumber.


	16. Chapter 15

Their time together had been sweet. But like all sweet moments, it had ended too quickly. Casey had been curled up against Derek's chest, an unladylike pool of drool on the covers beneath her, when the cell rang. And rang, and rang, and rang. Its whining cry was tortuously perpetually ear-jarring, and Derek grumbled when he stirred out of his slumber.

Pushing aside the pizza box, he sloppily felt around for the cell and answered it.

"'Ello?" he mumbled sleepily, settling back into his position and feeling for Casey's hand, just to be sure she was beside him.

"_Derek Michael Venturi!" _His father bellowed, in a rage that had only been provoked a handful of times, and usually it was the eldest children that did provoke it. No one else, so far, had lived to tell the tale. One of Casey's blind dates ended up sprinting out of the house and squealing out of the car just because he had _heard _George's anger aimed at his oldest son.

Derek groaned. He looked at Casey and mouthed _Dad_. She bit her bottom lip and took the phone.

He let her have it without a fight; he wasn't fond of having father-to-son chats while said son was in bed. At a hotel. With his girlfriend—oh yeah, and said girlfriend was his _stepsister_.

"George?" Casey said, in the softest, most innocent voice she could muster. Derek smirked at her. Oh, he had taught her well. "We just stopped at a rest stop. We were really sleepy and didn't want to get into an accident," Casey explained wisely, but in a voice Marti couldn't even beat.

George, notorious for his passiveness and, frankly, obliviousness, had another source. "I can't believe you're lying to me, Casey. You, of all people." He uttered in a low tone. Casey's heart caught in her throat.

"Ah." Casey recovered, "Um, what do you mean?" She faltered, and she knew she was losing.

"Casey, I know you're at a hotel. I also know you've spent the majority of the day there. And curiously, Derek seems to be there as well. Get home. We need to talk."

"But—"

George offered no mercy—he hung up on her.

And in that moment, Casey burst into hysterical tears, digging her fingernails in Derek's flesh as she hyperventilated.

"I should have kept the phone," he whispered to himself, and ignored the pain of her fingernails against his flesh. He deserved it, anyway. How could he have been so _stupid?_

"Turn off the phone." Derek whispered, pressing his lips against her ear. "We aren't leaving tonight."

In Casey's anxiety-ridden mind, it seemed logical, so she did. He pulled her against her, feeling her heartbeat's racing throbs. The fear and anxiety ate her up, twisted in her stomach and just completely devoured her; she was shaking and developing a massive headache on top of it.

"Casey." Derek said, trying to hold her still. _"Casey. Stop."_

She'd looked at him then, her eyes bloodshot and her lip quivering, hinting at another onslaught of tears, and all Derek could think about was how it was all his fault.

"I love you." He said, in a listless tone that suggested to Casey he was only trying to make her feel better. Casey simply nodded in response, pressed harder against him, and shut her eyes, trying, _trying_ to forget.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey, was at best, morose when she sat in the passenger seat next to him. There were dark circles around her eyes, and as far as communication went, the only thing she'd uttered to him was, "I'm not hungry."

Derek tried to understand. Really, he did. But he also knew Casey had a tendency to blow _everything _out of proportion. Still, he spoke in the gentlest voice he could and didn't even snipe at her when she took his favorite shirt to wear.

Why she wanted to wear it in the first place, he had no idea. It probably _wasn't _the best idea, actually, but again. He was trying to be The Perfect Boyfriend. Because Derek was the one who had screwed up.

"Got everything?" he asked.

Nod. Casey didn't even look at him after the detached gesture.

They drove without speaking, music also absent from the surroundings—the silence was about to _kill _him.

He pulled into a gas station an hour and half later. The car didn't even need gas—there was a quarter of a tank left—but it was the _silence _that drove him out. Ignoring the stench of gasoline and tobacco—yes, he'd chuckled wryly at the contradiction—he filled up the tank and pretended to be _so _busy with the car, he couldn't even look at Casey.

Who, at this moment, was staring at him with such blank eyes it made him uncomfortable. Like that little kid on _The Grudge_.

A minute later, he got into the car, a false smile on his face. "Ready, Princess?" he asked.

Nod. Not even a glance.

He took her face into his hands and kissed her, long enough for the cars behind him to start honking, and hard enough that her lips were red. "It's going to work out, Case."

The honking was growing more frequent, and Derek flipped his middle finger to the annoyed drivers.

"You're my _stepbrother_, Derek." Casey spat out, like he was completely and utterly stupid.

"Is that always going to be your argument? I'm your _stepbrother_, so therefore you can't be with me? News _flash_, Case, it's a piece of _fucking _paper! It doesn't mean a _goddamn _thing! We're just two teenagers who ended up in the same house, and by your terms, a freaky, unholy thing happened: we had chemistry!"

_Chemistry _was Derek's substitution for admitting he was in love with her; he really did hate admitting it, and his own _I love you_'s to Casey were fairly infrequent.

Usually Casey made some retort about his inability to admit it, but she just turned her head so she could look out the window, and Derek knew the conversation was over. This was _so _not turning out to be trip he'd hoped it'd be.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As expected, George and Nora were waiting for them with tired eyes, Lizzie, Edwin and Marti conveniently absent—probably to spare their youngest from the slaughtering that Derek and Casey were just about to undergo.

"Just put your stuff down." Nora said in a hollow, cracked voice. They both did.

Casey didn't look at him—he hoped this wasn't going to become a habit of hers—as she walked past him and took a seat at the dining table.

After a few seconds of Nora and George staring at him pointedly, expecting the same, he sighed, and took a seat next to Casey. She flinched as she heard the chair next to her move. When he tried to take her hand underneath the table, she shook it away.

The important question was asked first, Derek noted with bitterness.

"So how long have you been…intimate?" Nora asked, looking at her daughter in such despair it was probably breaking Casey's heart.

Casey whispered it so softly, he barely heard it. But he already knew the answer.

George looked at Derek, expecting a different statistic from him. "She's telling the truth," he said simply.

"Well—" Nora began, her tone clearly suggesting a long, winding tale of sexual intimacy and its dangers; Derek cut her off.

"We don't want the _talk_, Nora." He said bluntly, and George glared at him.

Nora smiled at him, that same smile he'd seen before, the strained and stressed one. "Yes. Well, I suppose…" she trailed off, not finishing her thought.

"Well, how long have you been _dating?_" George blurted out, like a small child would.

"Seven months." Derek answered.

"_Seven and a half." _Casey whispered, hair hiding her face.

"Okay, seven and a half months."

"But you were screaming like bloody murder at each other two months ago!" Nora protested, more than a little hurt at the depth of the deceit of the action.

"We worked it out."

George looked at his son with a disbelieving expression. "_How? _You never 'work' anything out!"

"I did for her," he said simply, and then mentally slapped himself for saying such a thing.

"So…" Nora began slowly, still processing the small bits of what she had heard, "You've been lying to us, lying to this whole family, your friends…for a relationship?"

"When you put it like that, Nora, _sheesh, _it sounds so wrong. Trying to make a point?" Derek growled.

"Knock it off." His father warned, his own anger glinting in his eyes.

"I can't believe you'd lie like this, Casey. Purposely let me worry about you. You're supposed to be the _responsible _one!"

There was an eerie silence. Then she spoke.

"Sometimes, mom, I want to be a _teenager. _I don't want to be _you _yet."

Casey had said this in such a calm, flat tone, Nora didn't even slap her. Her hand raised, poised for the action, but something about her daughter's demeanor had stuck her motionless.

"Derek," a bag hit his chest, knocking him out of his reverie, "I already called and arranged Sam's parents to take you for tonight. You can come home tomorrow. Nora and I still have some talking to do, and it's best the two of you aren't under the same roof right now."

"You didn't even listen to us," he said hotly.

"Don't bother, Derek." Casey called from the top of the stairs, "Just don't bother."

The door slammed shut.

"I'm your _son,_" Derek hissed.

George looked at him, sadness in his eyes. "It hurts me to do this. Really, it does. But it's just…easier if you're away from Casey right now."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Do you know how much it hurt us—all of us—when you had just left like that? We didn't know what to think, we didn't know where you'd be, or if you'd be back? And with everything that's just been said, do you completely blame us for wanting to be sure you'll stay here?"

"That's BS, dad." Derek growled.

George looked at him seriously. "Marti thought you were dead, or gone forever. She'd spent the whole night crying."

"This isn't how I wanted it to be." Derek said. "I was just trying to take her from all the stress and—"

"I know, Derek. I know."

But Derek was pretty sure his father didn't know—and who could blame him, it had all been a secret. The familiar guilt clouded around him. Nora hated him. Marti thought he had abandoned her. His dad was a strange mix of sad, angry, and disappointed. And Casey—the worst of all, Casey wouldn't even speak to him.


	17. Chapter 16

Sam regarded him in a lengthy gaze that lasted almost two minutes. Derek knew this because he'd spent the time staring at his watch, counting down the seconds. The boy next to him shifted on his bed, clearly uncomfortable. _**I'm**__ sure as hell not starting this conversation_, Derek thought bitterly.

"Derek, Nora called in hysterics last night. Asking about Casey. Asking about you. She asked me something weird, man."

Derek tensed. He _so _did not want to have this conversation. He'd been at Sam's for a grand total of fifteen minutes. Was he not allowed to have _some _peace?

"She asked me," Sam continued, cautiously, "if you were…with Casey."

"Of course I was with her, _Sam_, we came home together, didn't we?" Derek answered dryly, shooting Sam a bitter look.

"Don't BS me, dude. You know what I mean." Derek scowled.

He sighed, casting one quick wayward glance at his best friend. He was on the floor, slumped against the wall, looking so dejected, Sam probably figured out the story in seconds.

"Yes." Derek said simply.

"So…what are you going to do?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? Casey won't even speak to me, and Nora and Dad kicked me out!"

"They didn't kick you out, Derek."

"They totally did. Do you not see the 'orphan' sign pointing at me? That family wants nothing to do with me now. Including Casey. _Especially _Casey."

"I'm sure—"

"Do not try to make me feel better."

"Okay. How did they find out, anyway?"

Derek scoffed. "I have no idea. I'd used Ralph's credit card, so they couldn't track it through that. And they'd called us on the cell, so they _technically _couldn't have called missing persons."

"Dude!" Sam said, smacking Derek on the back of the head, "Your parents pay for those phones, which also have location services!"

"Thank you for rubbing it in," Derek muttered, and his friend fell silent.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey lay on her bed, her tears yet to come. She'd been such a bitch. He'd tried to do something nice for her, and she'd thrown it back in his face. She wanted to apologize. She wanted to see him.

She just _needed _him, and it was killing her.

A knock reverberated on her door, and seconds later, Nora poked her head into the room. "Still not hungry?"

Casey didn't say anything. _I hate you_, she thought miserably, _I hate you so much right now. And you ask me about _food.

Nora sighed, trying to decide whether to comfort her daughter or leave her be. Judging by the sharp hatred in her eyes, Nora chose the latter.

She should have stopped this; she'd expected it. She'd _noticed _it. If she interfered, Casey would be hurt. So she let it be. And now…Casey was hurt. And Nora couldn't do a damn thing.

The woman held the cell phone in her hand. She saw the picture of Derek as the background. She couldn't do this to her daughter. Yes, the girl had made a mistake. But it tore her up to watch her little girl in pain.

Silently, she set the pink object on her shelf. "Try to get some sleep," Nora said softly, knowing full well Casey wouldn't even be in her room come morning.

Casey had stared at the cell phone for a full five minutes after her mom had left. She was convinced it was some kind of trick, some kind of test.

She got off the bed, tiptoed to the phone. Hesitantly took it. She returned to her bed, sitting crosslegged and holding the phone in her hands as if it were a precious stone.

Casey took a deep breath, and dialed Sam's cell phone.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam did a comical jig as his cell phone vibrated. He fished it out of his jeans, and had to double-check the caller ID. "You might want to answer this," Sam said, handing him the phone.

"I don't want to talk to anyone, Sam." Derek muttered irritably, slapping the phone away.

Sam flipped open the phone, put it on speaker.

"_Derek."_

His heart caught in his throat. He scrambled to his feet, grabbing the phone.

"Hey." He said lamely, not being able to think of anything else to utter.

"I need to see you," Casey said seriously.

"Casey," he sighed. "What if—"

"I don't care," she said harshly, tears pricking her eyes. "I can't handle being alone tonight."

"Okay, okay." Derek sighed, "Where do you want me to meet you?"

"Just stay at Sam's. I'll climb in through the window."

There was a silence between them.

"I…Um…I'll…see you soon, then."

"See you soon." She whispered, and clicked the phone shut.

Derek looked at Sam, who was expectantly waiting for the news. "She's coming over."

"Uhh, you mean _Casey's _sneaking out? And, well, _in_, too?"

"That's exactly what I mean."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey, throwing on a jacket and stuffing her wallet in her pocket, abandoned the cell phone on her bed.

She snuck over to Derek's room, opened the window, and dropped. A screeching pain reached her head, and her legs were sprawled in front of her in, thankfully, normal angles.

"Ow," she whispered, rubbing her head and trying to rid of the jarring ringing in her ears. Her shoulder felt warm, and a searing pain ran throughout her right shoulder blade. She ignored it, and began the trek to Sam's house.

It was cold, and the darkness seeped all around her. It would be harder to find Sam's than she originally thought. But she would make it. She _had _to make it.

An hour later, Casey still hadn't gotten to Sam's house. Derek had already called her cell fifty times at least, and he was almost positive she didn't have it with her.

"She didn't answer. Again." Derek said, hurling the phone against the wall in frustration.

"Dude, that's _my _cell phone!" Sam cried.

Derek evil-eyed him, daring him to complain more. Sam stared back.

A rock caused a crack in Sam's window. Sam grumbled. "You two are going to bring me into debt at this rate." Derek beat him to the window, and saw Casey shivering on the ground below.

"I'll bring her through the back. _Stay here._" Sam commanded, closing his bedroom door firmly behind him.

Derek, staring at the doorknob in nervous anticipation, played with the small car model of Sam's in order to keep calm.

And then the door burst open. Casey stared at him for a moment before she said, "I got lost."

And he abandoned the cobalt blue car for the girl that launched herself upon him, grabbing his jacket and pulling him into a feverish (albeit slightly sloppy) kiss.

One kiss soon became two, and so on and so forth; Sam watched this display of affection with discomfort, not wanting to interrupt the happy couple's tonsil hockey, but also not wanting to _watch_ it. "I..uh…guys?" Sam called out meekly.

Derek separated his lips from Casey's long enough to utter, "Go watch TV or something, man."

"No, no, Sam." Casey said, pushing Derek away. "I'm sorry; that was rude."

"I…yeah. Sure." Sam said, shifting from one foot to the other, clearly disturbed by his ex girlfriend making out with her arch enemy _and _stepbrother.

She smoothed her shirt and ran her fingers through her hair. Derek sat by her side, clearly disgruntled by the interruption of his activities.

"So," Sam said, "Want to play a game?"

"Yeah," Derek began brightly, "It's called _sending the best friend into the living room so the other best friend can make out._"

_"Der-ek!"_ Casey growled. "Be nice. It's not like Mom and George are being too welcoming right now. You're lucky you have somewhere to go."

"Yes, because I am the demon seed while you're the innocent keener that got sucked into my evil charm, right?" Derek muttered sarcastically.

"They didn't say that!"

"Then why was I the one who got sent away?"

"Because Em lives _right _next door and it was a bit too convenient? Not to mention, Em's a major gossip?"

"Your logic has no effect on me."

"Whatever, Derek. You're being rude and you know I'm right." Casey muttered, lapsing into a silence.

Sam, fully weirded out, and finally deciding that not-so-happy couple needed some alone time, announced, "I'm going to…do the laundry or something. Bye."

The door shut. Derek eyed Casey, and Casey pretended to not be aware of it.

"Why did you come?" He asked.

"I wanted to say I was sorry."

"Sorry?"

"For being mean to you before you left."

"Why would that bother me? I'm so used to your drama queen crap, I barely notice it anymore."

Casey evil-eyed him. "I'm trying to apologize, and you're being a butt."

Derek laughed. "Did you seriously just call me a _butt_?"

Casey looked at him, tipping her nose up into the air. "Yes, I did."

She took his hand into hers. "Derek," she said, eyes softening.

"No, no, no. _Do not _start with the waterworks."

She sniffled, "Don't you care what's happening?"

"Of course I do. But I still don't want to deal with your tears."

"You dealt with them just fine last night." She said, a solitary tear beginning its journey down her cheek.

Derek sighed, closed his eyes. "Casey. _Please."_

Her tears did not stop.

"Do you want me to hug you? Here," he pulled her into his arms, holding her, "Is that better?"

She couldn't swallow the lump in her throat. "The more you try to _not _make me cry, the more I _will _cry."

"Please, don't, Case. It's all…emotional and girly and…and…and…I _hate _that."

She sniffled. "Just hold me, you idiot."

"I _am_ holding you."

She looked at him. "Yeah." She said softly, "Yeah, you are."

She smiled at this, and he placed a rough kiss on her forehead.

"You're still a butt, though," Casey said seriously.

Derek grinned. "Am I a sexy butt?"

"The sexiest."

"Good."

Sam, who had been perched outside the door the whole time, smiled. This wasn't as strange as he'd thought it was. They were strangely…perfect.


	18. Chapter 17

The coffee machine whined. Nora sat at the table, her hair disheveled and worry hanging beneath her eyes. Her daughter wasn't home, as Nora had assumed. She knew where Casey was; it was simply the fact that her little girl had gone to the boy Nora didn't want her to be in love with.

It was selfish, she knew, to expect something of that magnitude from her daughter. After all, her marriage had put Casey in that situation, and even Nora had to admit their immediate chemistry was signifying a disaster. The woman sighed. She'd just hoped it had been _after _they were out of the house.

George shuffled into the kitchen, hair in disarray and his eyes barely open. "Where's Casey?" he asked hoarsely. Nora looked at her husband in surrender.

"With Derek, I assume."

"But she was supposed to stay here." George said dumbly, slumping beside her wearily.

"Oh, face it, Georgie. Our kids are stubborn, and they're going to do what they want. We're in way over our heads."

George sighed. "But we _have _to do something. What about Marti? Lizzie? Edwin? They don't need—_can't_—be around their intimacy. I'd really like to avoid any sexual relationships with the kids for a long, long time. Not to mention, Lizzie and Ed are close. What if they see their siblings, that they idolize, being in…in…"

"Love?" Nora supplied gently.

She got up, took two mugs out and filled them with coffee. She handed one to George and sat next to him. "They're in love. There's nothing we can do otherwise. But we _can _set rules about how public they are. If they've been this secretive for this long, then they'd have to agree on some of our points."

George sighed whiningly. "Why me? Dealing with Derek alone was hard enough. Now I have to put up with two hormonal teenagers in love in one house."

She patted his hand sympathetically. "We'll pull through. They can't hate us for trying to compromise. We _aren't _asking them to break up. You'll see, Georgie, you'll see." She kissed him on the forehead, and he pulled her close.

"What would I do without you, Nora?"

She laughed. "I'm scared to imagine," she said.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Sam, being the gentleman he was, offered to sneak down to the couch and sleep, and let Derek and Casey have the room to themselves. He had only one rule: No sex.

"I have to sleep in that bed tomorrow, you know," He reminded them, and Derek threw a puck at him. He ducked, and closed the door, laughing hysterically.

Mrs. Wallace regarded her laughing son with a raised eyebrow, and simply shook her head, taking the laundry down to the washing machine. Boys. She'd never figure them out.

Derek gave Casey his shirt to borrow for the night, and he slept in boxers. Her bare legs against his made him smile. He wanted to share a bed with her every night.

Casey turned to him, staying close. "Derek?" she asked sleepily.

He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Yeah?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion. "Why do you think Mom and George were so surprised we were dating?"

"Case," he said, "They weren't surprised. They just didn't want to realize that they'd made a mistake. And they might be kind of mad that we lied. A lot."

"Do you think we were a mistake?"

He grabbed her, pulling her close. "Of course not."

"Good," she said softly, "'Cause I don't think so either."

He kissed her cheek. "Sleep, you silly girl."

"Likewise, you silly boy."

She nestled closer, and Derek wouldn't have admitted it out loud, but he thought, right then and there, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this girl.

Never had he thought that, even with Kendra.

So in the morning, as he heard Sam enter the room with an annoying "Knock, knock, lovebirds!" he simply pulled Casey closer and groaned at Sam.

Casey let out a grumble too, signifying she was siding with Derek on this issue.

"Guys," Sam whined, "I'm lucky my mom didn't check on _'me and Derek'_ this morning. She'll _kill _me if she knows Casey spent the night here."

Casey peered at him. "You're right, Sam. I'm sorry." She sat up. Derek wrapped his arm around her midriff and tried to pull her back down.

"Derek," Casey said patiently, ruffling his hair, "Get up."

"No." Derek said childishly.

"I'm getting up," She sang to him, slipping out from under the covers and putting her hand on her hip.

Sam swallowed, drinking in her bare legs and polka-dotted underwear, and then choking when he realized she was wearing Derek's _shirt._

Derek, awake now, and sneering at Sam, who was checking out his _girlfriend_, scowled. "Sammy boy?" Sam jerked his head up, and a blush grew on his cheeks.

"Y-yeah?"

"Stop checking out my girlfriend. Even if she _is _wearing underwear and _my _shirt."

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Err…"

"Sammy? Get out."

"Jeez, you're possessive." Sam complained. "You don't even trust _me?_"

"_Out_, Sammy."

Sam left. Casey glared at Derek in a huff. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Sure." Derek said.

"_De-rek!"_

He kissed her, his hands firmly on her hips. Pulling back after the lengthy liplock, he said, "Yes, _darling?_"

She ignored him and pulled off his shirt, pulling on her bra.

Derek grinned.

Casey scowled.

"Tease."

"Manwhore."

She pulled on her jeans, and in the process, twirled in circles until she got the jeans on. It was amusing until he saw a dark circle the size of a CD on her shoulder.

"What's that?" Derek asked, causing her to look up at him.

"What's what?" She asked, attempting to look behind her and failing.

He turned her around and looked at the large bruise on her shoulder. He prodded it. "That hurt?"

"Ow! Yes, it does," she said, rolling her eyes. "It's just a bruise. Probably after I jumped out of the window last night."

"You _jumped _out the window?" he looked at her, a flicker of anger rising in his eyes.

"I needed to see you," she said simply, pulling away from him and buttoning her jeans nonchalantly, "And anyway, I'm fine."

He scowled at her.

She pulled on her shirt, and grabbed Sam's Old spice, applying it quickly. "Get dressed, pretty boy."

"I am _not _a pretty boy! I am ruggedly handsome!"

She dragged her fingernails down his chest gently. "Fine, Mr. Ruggedly Handsome. Get ready."

He suddenly resented Sam's no sex rule.

Sam, who had been patiently waiting at the door, threw his hands in the air when they exited. "About time! I found a new toothbrush, but you'll have to share. _Then _you'll have to leave."

He shoved the two into the bathroom and said, "I'll be counting." Derek glared at him.

She brushed first, spat, and then handed him the toothbrush after rinsing it. When they were ready, he took her hand, Sam pushing them out the door the whole way.

Mrs. Wallace, getting home from grocery shopping just seconds before, frowned. _Was that _Casey? She shook her head. Of course not.

"Where do you want to go?" Derek asked, still holding Casey's hand as they walked down the sidewalk.

"I don't know. I feel like we should go home."

"What? Casey! Going home would be a _crime_! We have the whole day to ourselves!"

"Remember how well _that _worked out?" she retorted dryly.

"Oh, yes, I _do." _Derek said, a slow grin growing across his face.

She rolled her eyes. "Of course, you think of the _sex._"

"It was good sex."

"All sex is good to you."

"Nu-uh!"

"Sure, Venturi, sure."

"It isn't, Case," He said with finality.

They passed the park, and she stopped, an indescribable emotion crossing her features.

"Remember?" she said softly.

"Yeah," he said, "God, you were stubborn."

She pulled him down the hill, and plopped down on one of the benches, looking at the swings and slides, smiling softly.

She pointed to one of the swings. "I was right there, I think."

"Case, I know how it went."

She looked at him, that smile still on her face, "You told me to give it a chance. _You, _Derek Venturi, had a _thing _for me. You just didn't want to admit it."

"Then you said no and almost ran away and it's probably pure luck we're here right now, holding hands like dorks. Okay, let's go, Princess, jail sentencing awaiting, can't miss that." Derek said, beginning to get up.

He didn't really care to remember the way he felt she'd punched a hole in his chest when she said no. But he'd never really told her that, because it was oddly one of Casey's favorite memories, and he didn't want to ruin it.

Casey pulled him back down, and scooted closer to him, rested her head on his shoulder. "You, Venturi, are a pretty great guy, you know that?"

He squinted, as though pondering the question. "I think you should tell me more. Like, all the time."

"Yes, because your ego isn't big enough." She kissed his cheek. "Thanks for making me give it a chance."

"You're welcome. Wanna make out on the swings?"

She rolled her eyes. "So romantic. We should go back, though."

"Fine, but I still say we should make a break for it. How do you feel about Mexico?"

Casey took his hand with a smile. "We're not going to Mexico, Der. We're going to smooth things over. Or die. One of the two."

"I still vote for Mexico."


	19. Chapter 18

When they reached the house, Derek pulled Casey back seconds before she opened the door. "What?" she asked, looked at him.

"I'm very superstitious," he began, "So therefore, you have to give me a good luck kiss."

"You just want to stall time."

"Whatever you want to believe, darling. Now pucker up."

She leaned in against him.

Lizzie, who had simply glanced out the window for no apparent reason, gazed upon this occurrence. At first, she rolled her eyes. Was there no end to Derek's girlfriends? But upon closer inspection, the girl was…_Casey?_

_Casey _was Derek's new girl? _Casey?!_

Lizzie fell back upon her bed, eyes wide. It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

She looked out the window again. No, that was definitely her sister. She saw them enter the house and, crept out into the hallway to listen.

She was glad she had been pretending to take a nap when George suggested Ed take his sisters to lunch. No wonder he seemed insistent.

Downstairs, Casey felt their parents look back at them with surprise, like maybe the night before had been some odd, elaborate prank and they had just confirmed that it was, in fact, not.

"Hey…guys." Derek said feebly, "Parenting hard or hardly parenting?"

George narrowed his eyes. "Sit down, Derek. We need to talk."

The two teens sat on the couch, their arm and legs pressed together and their hands entwined _despite _the disapproving glance of the parental units.

Derek let a wry smile cross his lips. "Let the trial begin."

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I can't believe they're making us leave our bedroom doors open from now on," Derek complained, tossing a hockey puck up in the air, catching it, and then repeating the motion. He was on his back, his head nestled against a pillow.

Casey, sitting on Derek's desk chair, held her face in her hand. "It could have been worse, Derek." She reminded him.

"_And _we can't be home alone anymore. They're treating us like we're five!"

"At least they trust us enough to let us be in here alone."

"Who says they're not eavesdropping?" Derek snarked childishly, letting the puck fall down beside him. He stood up, his lanky arms reaching above his head as he arched and stretched. He walked closer to Casey, putting his hand on her shoulder.

In a swift motion, he shoved her off the chair, caught her before she could fall, and settled her on his lap. She opened her mouth, about to make a comment, but he cut her off by pressing his lips against hers.

She responded, her fingers running through his wild curls, her teeth raking against his lips, her warm breath causing shivers to run up his back. He ran his fingers up and down against the soft skin of her exposed stomach, his opposite hand pulling her closer to him.

They pulled apart, their chests heaving, eyes muddled with lust, their hair slightly disheveled. She leaned in again, and he took her, slipping his heated tongue between his lips, briefly smirking at the small whimper that escaped her mouth.

Her passion was revealed quickly—her nails ran deep, jagged trails down his back.

Derek pulled from her swollen lips, setting his head back in a tortured surrender.

"_We need to find a place."_ Derek whispered throatily, not giving a damn whether the parents heard his want for her or not.

Casey pressed her forehead against his. "Yes," she began, giving him a chaste kiss, "we _do_."

His only response was another kiss.

Seconds, minutes, hours passed—Derek wasn't sure, Casey had a tendency to warp time for him—and the prolonged silence was enough to instill suspicion in George. How the two hadn't heard his ominous trek up the stairs, Derek wasn't sure, but he figured it had something to do with the current hormone levels spiking out of control.

"_Ahem._" George coughed pointedly, causing the two teens to tear apart from their lust-induced reverie and scramble to look as though they were innocent.

The red lips and disheveled hair proved otherwise, and George's lips drew into a firm line.

"We were just…talking," Casey said weakly, petting at her hair.

"Yeah, about…uh…how it's great to have such _understanding, loving _parents."

"I'm so sure," George muttered wryly, motioning for Casey to leave the room. She slunk away, passing Derek a look of pure grief.

George plopped down onto Derek's bed, well aware that his son was glaring at him with burning hatred.

"Derek," George began, ignoring his meek protest, "It can't be like this. You couldn't even last a _day?_ Should we be thinking of some…alternatives?"

Derek's glare grew taught. "_Alternatives?" _he whispered darkly, "You were the one who threw us together in this _fucking _family in the first place! You're punishing me for something _you _did?"

George's own gaze grew less sympathetic and more angry. "You know it's not like that at all, Derek, and you're being entirely unreasonable about this _whole _thing—"

"_Unreasonable?" _Derek bellowed, unable to contain his anger any longer, "We kept our relationship from you because we knew _you'd _be the unreasonable ones! You want us to be this Brady bunch—but we're _not_, Dad! Can't you see that? This isn't some fling. I…"

His anger dissipated, replaced by brief annoyance with his inability to say what he wanted, "You love Nora, don't you?"

George nodded wordlessly. "I love Casey. Don't tell me you wouldn't do the same to protect Nora if you were in my shoes."

"We have others to think of in this household besides you, Derek! I can't condone an intimate relationship under _my roof _when you have younger, more _impressionable _siblings to think about!"

"I'm not letting you direct how _my _relationships should be!"

"All we're asking of you is to cool it down a bit, and try to make it as normal as possible! We're not trying to end this, Derek, but we _can._"

A hollow laugh escaped Derek's throat. "Are you threatening me?"

"I'm trying to reason with you," George muttered softly, his shoulders slumped.

"I need to take a walk," Derek muttered, breezing past his father and exiting with a reverberating door slam.

Casey, tensing for a moment after the aforementioned door slam, got up and poked her head into Derek's room, noting George's slumped posture.

"He doesn't mean it, George," Casey said softly, "He's just frustrated. He loves me, George, and he loves you too…he's just feeling torn right now, that's all. It'll work out."

"Why did you have to do this, Casey?" George said tiredly.

Casey's face scrunched up in an expression of confusion. "Do what?"

"I know Derek. I know how he flirts with every girl, and I know he's been attracted you from the start. I should have said something. But do you _realize _how complicated this all is now? You were supposed to be the responsible one. The smart one."

Casey shrank from his wearied and subtly vicious whispers. She returned to her own room, slipping underneath her comforter with a glassy gaze. The gaping hole in her chest throbbed now, exuding a fresh batch of pain as George's words ran through her mind.

She cried quietly. No one came to comfort her.

Not even Lizzie, who had heard the whole thing.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Derek, walking down the street with a scowl on his face, came upon a twisted, beaten-up Pepsi can on the sidewalk. He kicked it as he walked, pretending it was George rather than an actual can.

He walked past the park Casey and him had been at just hours prior; walked past Sam's house, where they'd spent their last worry-free night together. Where he was going, he had no idea. He allowed his feet to do the walking and his mind to wander elsewhere.

After a while, he realized he heard someone following him. Someone that had been for a while. He turned, and upon seeing Lizzie, stopped to let her catch up.

"Aren't you supposed to be out…doing something?"

"I heard everything. I know everything. Well, most of it. But there's something I want to know."

"What?" Her eldest stepbrother asked warily.

Lizzie looked tired, run down. Like she hadn't slept in days. He felt a pang of guilt for not paying more attention to her, to Marti, to Ed.

"You meant what you said? About loving her?" She asked.

"I wouldn't say if I didn't mean it, Liz."

The girl walked alongside him for a little while, thinking.

"I'm trying not to be angry at you, Derek, because I think you do love her, and she needs that."

"But?" He prodded.

"I am angry. Because you stole my sister away from me and she forgot I even existed and she's always been there, until now. I'm mad at her too, trust me, I'll all about equality here. But I'm mostly mad at myself, because I shouldn't be angry. It's horrible of me to be, isn't it?" She whispered.

She felt him take her into a hug. "No, Liz, it's not horrible. It's not. Casey would say the same thing." When was the last time she'd let anyone hug her? Hesitantly, she wrapped her small arms around her, and to her utmost mortification, began crying.

Derek didn't say anything. Not because he was uncomfortable, but because he realized his little sister had slowly been keeping secrets of her own, and no one noticed. Not even Casey, who was supposed to. And he felt intensely guilty for that.

When the tears stopped, she released him quickly, obviously feeling embarrassed.

"Liz," he said slowly, channeling Casey the best he could, "I know a lot's going on, but it doesn't mean you can't talk about stuff that's going on, too."

The girl sniffled, sidestepping the obvious concern as fast as she'd released him. "I know. I'm okay. Just worried about Casey. George…got a little upset, said some things he didn't mean. I think we should go home."

When they arrived, and just before they parted ways to different areas of the house, Lizzie whispered, "Just so you know, Derek—I don't agree with our parents."

"Thanks, Liz." He whispered, before knocking on Casey's bedroom door. She opened the door, and upon seeing him, pulled him inside.

"Heard from a little lizard that you might need company?" Derek asked, and Casey didn't answer, simply wrapped her arms around him.

After some time had passed, Derek heard her say calmly, "He said I was supposed to be the responsible one. The mature one. Like…like this is just some…meaningless…"

He had to focus on suppressing the urge to have a few choice words with his father.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know, Case. But I know Liz supports you. Ed, and Marti, I think they will too. Maybe things will calm down."

"Maybe," She murmured.


	20. Chapter 19

"What else can we possibly do, Nora? What if…what if Ed and Lizzie think it's okay for _them _to act that way?"

"Maybe…" Nora mused aloud.

"What?"

"Maybe we should consider counseling."

"You know Derek would never go for that."

"I meant family counseling," Nora explained, "so we can introduce this to the kids in a professional setting with someone else who can neutrally explain it to them. And maybe…maybe Derek and Casey would open up a little more."

George sat silent for a moment.

"I think…" he began, trailing off momentarily, "I think that's a good idea."

Meanwhile, Edwin and Marti were growing suspicious at the strange pact of silence that had somehow formed among their parents, Lizzie, Derek, and Casey.

There was also the matter of the fact that dinner had apparently been completely forgotten, their parents lost in their own little world, telling him to order a pizza on a _school _night, Lizzie's steadfast distance in general, among other things.

The most notable observation was the fact that Derek and Casey, two people who had never gotten along since they met, were somehow coexisting in the same room peacefully.

Edwin wanted answers. He knocked on his stepsister's door loudly, causing the two teens on the other side to rouse from their nap, one that had not been preceded by the very things George forbid them to do.

Clearly, progress was happening.

"And I was just starting to fall asleep," Derek grumbled.

"What's going on?" Edwin asked.

"Shit," Derek groaned, resting his head against Casey's shoulder briefly before walking to the door.

He cracked the door open, bleary eyed. "You woke me up. _What _is so important?"

Marti looked at her brother and frowned. "Smerek, we aren't stupid!"

"What Marti said. We know something's up."

"What's going on with you and Casey?"

Before Derek could utter a word, George appeared.

"Leave him alone," he said, "He'll tell you in therapy."

"_Therapy?!"_ All three siblings yelled in unison.

"You're sending us to _therapy?_" Lizzie said in distaste, walking over to Edwin's side to ensure her opinion was heard.

"Family sessions will be good for us. Now stop bugging him and go do your homework."

"No!" Marti said rebelliously.

"Smarti," Derek warned.

"We want to know. _Now._" Edwin snapped.

"They're dating. Like, actually dating. But mom and George hate it." Lizzie said bluntly, ignoring the shock on Edwin's face, "That's why they want therapy. _For the kids. _Supposedly." She shot a look at George, "For the record, if they're happy, I don't care."

"Uhh…" Edwin uttered astutely.

Casey appeared by Derek's side, and smiled at her sister.

Derek knew it was more complicated than that for Liz. Ultimately, however, Lizzie did want her sister to be happy. She seemed to believe he could do that, and he wanted to hug her.

"Do you love each other?" Marti asked bluntly.

"Yes," they both said softly.

Marti shrugged. "Okay." And the youngest bounded off to her room, no doubt about to reenact the scene with her barbies, and possibly create a wedding.

George sighed, and gave up on secrecy. "Nora's trying to set up an appointment as soon as possible. I don't care what you say. You're _all_ going, and that's final."

Lizzie chose to slip away before George could say anything more to her. Perhaps she could simply forget to go. Ed followed her, presumably to ask how she'd known these things, but she gave him that cryptic smile she gave everyone and said, "Sorry, Ed. I'm pretty tired."

"Whatever," he muttered, going to his room.

Then there were three.

"Non-negotiable. You're going." George said finally.

"Okay." Casey said, nodding her head. "That's fair."

"It _is_?"Derek said incredulously.

"Yes, it is. We have to compromise somehow." Casey said.

"I don't _want _to go to therapy!"

"George, I'll get him to come somehow." She said in exasperation.

Both Venturis looked at her awkwardly.

"You will, will you?" Derek said, never one to give up the chance to embarrass her, cocking an eyebrow.

Casey turned red. "I meant to therapy, you pervert!"

"Right. Well. I, ah, suppose…Nora should…know the kids know. I'll…ah…leave you two alone." George stammered clearly embarrassed. But not embarrassed enough to say in a hushed tone, as he exited the door, "No funny business."

"Oh, God." Casey mumbled, burying her face in her hands. Derek closed the door and sat down beside her, playing with the short wispy hairs on the back of her neck.

"They don't give us enough credit," Derek whispered in his ear.

"Mm. I think things are going to work out, though."

He snaked an arm across her belly, running his index finger across the thin strip of skin that her tank top revealed. "But I'm not going to therapy."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not." Derek said, bringing his finger to her face. "You skin is so damn soft." He whispered, leaning into kiss her; she turned away, growing agitated.

"Don't change the subject. Derek, you can't always have what you want! We need to help our family accept this!"

"_Why?_ In case you didn't notice, the sibs have no issue with this, it's _their _problem. Not mine, not yours, just theirs." he argued.

Casey pulled away from his touch completely. "You're being selfish, Derek. We have to help them see things our way."

"And if it's really just a way to get _us _to see things their way?"

"Do you really think I would stop loving you after a stupid counseling session?" Casey asked, annoyed.

"No, I think they could make it seem so wrong, and so shameful, that it fucks things up." Derek said icily.

"Why not just go, to one meeting, just to see what it's like. And if there's anything you don't think you should have to listen to, you can leave. But at least try." She said softly, pleadingly.

"Fine," he gave in finally, "But I mean it, Case. If they say anything to make us feel bad, I'm leaving and taking you with me."

"Thank you," she whispered, kissing him.

He put his arms around her, still unsettled with the idea.


	21. Chapter 20

Four days later, and a day before the therapy session, Derek's wariness of attending had only increased. He needed someone on the outside to give him some perspective.

He decided to go to the one man he could trust: Sam.

Derek tracked down his best friend at lunch. "Sam, I have a dilemma. It is your job to solve it."

Sam groaned. "Let me guess—Casey." Derek ignored his comment and took a bite of his sandwich.

"They want us to go to _therapy, _Sam. Therapy! And it's _family _sessions! As in, all of us!"

Sam snorted, holding back a laugh. "Sucks for you, dude." Derek glared at him.

"Touching." He said dryly, "I don't want to go. How do I make Casey see that?"

Sam shook his head. "Man, all these years with Casey and you can still surprise me with that dense skull of yours. _You're _being an idiot. All this time it's been what Derek wants, Derek gets. The second you started dating Casey? _Casey _gets what _Casey _wants. And she wants you to suck it up and try to fix things with your family. So just do it."

Derek frowned, not pleased with the advice.

"Besides, this has less to do with Casey and more to do with whatever issue you have with therapists. They're not literally going to shrink your head, you know."

"Love is so stupid," Derek grumbled.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Derek met Casey at her locker. "Ready?"

"As much as anyone can be, I guess." Casey said, putting her books in her locker and shutting the door.

The ride to the office was silent; Casey occupied herself by looking out the window, and Derek occupied himself by driving as slowly as possible, and even taking a few wrong turns to prolong the trip. Casey did not say a word.

Two thirty—the appointment was at two forty-five—came too fast, so he pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car.

Casey's hands wrapped around his own as they made their way into the building.

The waiting room was brown. Casey, having experience with therapists, found this color choice to be interesting. What was it with shrinks and the color brown? It was a more depressing color than…say, green.

She sat down on one of the leather–covered chairs (one guess as to its hue) and was distinctly aware of the tension in the room. Edwin and Lizzie sat parallel from their eldest siblings, and George and Nora were at the front desk.

Instead of staring at her sister's expression when Derek grabbed her hand and squeezed it, she focused on the painting on the wall across from her.

It depicted a lone lighthouse in the middle of thrashing, violent waves. That image wasn't uplifting either, and Casey was beginning to doubt the integrity of the therapist.

"Hello!" a woman said warmly to Lizzie, "Are you my next appointment?"

"Unfortunately," Edwin deadpanned, ignoring the death stare his father shot him. The woman didn't bat an eye at this and instead turned to Casey and Derek.

"Is it okay if I take your children in?" she asked.

Casey's face grew red. "I-I'm the sister." She elbowed Derek in the ribs as his laughter, barely stifled, escaped past his lips. The woman was confused now. Thankfully, George came to her rescue.

"Ah, I'm sorry. Um, I'm the father," he said, and motioning to his wife, "This is Nora." The woman's smile visibly slipped off of her face.

"You're the…blended family, aren't you? Oh, let me get Gertrude and she'll help you get started; I'm sorry, I wasn't aware she had any more appointments." Then she scurried off.

"Ever hear of patient confidentiality?" George muttered, not even thanking the woman as she handed him a clipboard.

Twenty minutes later they were all extradited out of the miserable silence. Their therapist, apparently having the misfortune to be named Gertrude, led them into a comfortably sized room for the six family members, as well as the therapist herself.

When they were all situated—Derek next to Casey, Lizzie next to Edwin, and Nora next to George—the woman introduced herself. "I'm Gertrude Waters; you may call me Gertrude or Dr. Waters, whichever you prefer."

Dr. Waters was a woman in her mid-forties; she was of average height and build (five foot six, one-hundred and fifty-three pounds), and wore loose, colorful skirts with splashes of neon oranges and greens and yellows. She had dark brown hair, dark skin and sky blue eyes that contrasted startlingly so with her skin and hair.

"Where's Marti?" Derek asked, finally aware that the youngest Venturi was missing.

"We decided that because some of our conversational content may not be appropriate for Marti, she will be coming in once the other issues are resolved." Dr. Waters answered easily, not at all irritated by his rude outburst.

The woman watched the oldest boy react to this. She studied his actions and the emotions in his eyes; they screamed rebellion. This one wasn't going to be easy.

Being predictable Derek, he snarked, "What issues? You mean the fact that we're paying you God-knows how much for problems that aren't even there?"

The brunette next to him kicked his foot. "Derek, let the woman speak before you go out on offensive. She's trying to help."

"No she's not." Derek muttered; however, he let up and allowed her to speak.

"So, George, could you tell me a little bit about what your concerns are?" Gertrude asked.

The man seemed flustered at her question. "Well, as you know, there's quite an age difference with the kids in our house. And, um, some of the older ones will be interested in…things…before the younger ones will. I don't think it's healthy for them to be subjected to…"

"Jeez, you're acting like we just strip down naked wherever we are and _do it _right there." Derek muttered, much to Casey's distaste.

"How do you feel about this, Derek?"

Oh, _God_, she used the word _feel_. Casey rolled her eyes. Here we go…

"I think _Georgie_ needs to lay off. We're not stupid." Derek sniped.

"Since this seems to be predominantly about the younger siblings, don't you think we should ask _them _how it's affecting their lives? Lizzie, Edwin, what do you think?" Dr. Waters gently led the conversation back to the siblings.

Lizzie began. "I didn't get it at first. They never seemed to like each other much, they always fought, and Derek was always pulling pranks on her. But he did nice things, too. I don't know, if he makes her happy, I think it's okay. I'm fine with it."

_Except that Casey makes every guy she dates the center of her world and forgets about everyone else and I'm the freak for being jealous about it,_ She thought.

Edwin picked up on that. "Except you never talk to anyone anymore, you always hide in your room, and make up reasons to not hang out with me as much. I don't think you're okay with it, Liz, I think you're just saying that for Casey."

"It has nothing to do with them." She said sharply, throwing daggers at her stepbrother. She was acutely aware of the way the woman watched her.

"Whatever," Edwin muttered, shifting his gaze.

"Liz, are you sure—" George started, but stopped when the glare was redirected at him.

"Don't make this about me. You're the one who blamed my sister for being immature. You're the one with the problem. We shouldn't even be here."

"Lizzie!" Nora admonished, surprised at her outburst.

"You know," Dr. Waters interjected, "I think it would be best if we let Lizzie and Edwin wait outside for now. Let's have some time to talk about you and Nora's thoughts, okay?"

The younger McDonald didn't wait for a confirmation; she stood and left quickly. Edwin followed suit only after George told him to look after her.

An awkward silence passed before the woman started the questions again. "George, Nora, a lot of times, anger comes from fear. You reported feeling angry when knowing about the relationship. Can you articulate some of the fears you have about this?"

"If you break up, you don't have the option of parting ways as easily, and I'm worried it could put strain on all of us if things don't work out." Nora said quietly.

"The lying. The lying has to stop. I'm not sure when, or if, I can even trust you again. At home alone, going somewhere, how can I trust you?" George muttered.

"I don't like that you're sexually active, especially under the same roof," Nora added bluntly, "but I especially don't like that you were sneaking into _his _room—"

She blushed and looked at her hands, suddenly wishing she hadn't agreed to go.

"I did the sneaking sometimes too," Derek interjected, "and it's not like we…it wasn't always for sex, okay?"

Nora did not look like this comment eased her concern at all.

"I was scared," Casey said, "And you always said it was my choice, when I knew I was ready and when I knew who I wanted to be with. You taught me what I needed to know. I wanted to be with him, and I'm sorry that we had to lie, but you have to know it wasn't because we wanted to hurt you or George. It was because I loved him, and that was scary enough. I didn't want you to hate me for it, or Derek."

"We tried to protect everyone the best way we could," Derek said, "Maybe it wasn't the best way but we tried."

"I could never hate you, Casey," Nora said, tears welling in her eyes, shifting her gaze from her daughter to him, "or you, Derek. I am afraid for you, and I can't help but want to protect you, but I will always, always love you."

George sighed warily, watching Nora's resolve whittle down quickly. "All right, look, none of us meant to say or do what we did. Casey, I'm sorry for unfairly blaming you, and Derek, I'm sorry for not listening to you. The best thing now is…to just move on from this."

The doctor stepped in then, "How about we try to set some ground rules, and go from there, okay? Everyone will have their turn to list the rules they think should be set or omitted. George, how about we start with you, and then we'll have Nora add her thoughts,"

George nodded, and began.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Edwin watched Lizzie flip through a magazine slowly, clearly not paying much attention to the pages. "Can I ask you something?"

She looked at him. "You just did."

"This thing, with Derek and Casey getting together…are you avoiding me because you think I might want to…be with you?"

Lizzie had to stifle a laugh. "Not in the slightest. I know you don't think of me that way, and I don't think of you that way. Right?"

He shook his head quite vigorously. "You're my best friend, Liz. That's it."

She nodded, "Okay, mine too."

"But I'm still really worried about you, Liz, and I miss you." Edwin murmured softly.

The girl forced a smile. "There's nothing to worry about, Ed. Honest. I'm just really busy lately."

Edwin let it go. "All right, if you say so."

He was going to have to do some snooping of his own.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"So basically," Derek began, raising his brows, "you're saying you don't want us to act like we're anything more than sibs, a peck on the cheek, a curtsy farewell, when anyone is around?"

"I'm not curtsying," Casey told him sternly, knowing precisely what idea he had in mind for that.

"We will acknowledge at this time," George forced out, "that we cannot realistically control everything you do, so we are asking that you _exercise _good _judgment _and respect the rules for the younger kids. That includes how you choose to conduct yourself outside the house. Nora doesn't want to lock you out of your own home after school just because you'll be together alone, but if it becomes a serious issue, we'll consider it."

Derek didn't really know what his father defined as a "serious issue" but he took it to mean that his skills in sneaking around were going to be continuously utilized for the sake of their parents' denial and the sake of his "poor judgment", as his father called it.

"Works for me," he said, "No PDA or any of Casey's ridiculous sap. Extended curfew on Fridays and Saturdays for date night, no hotels."

"Okay, so, I have that on the list, along with Nora's stipulation of mediation if your relationship ends and makes things difficult. Anything else?"

"No." Nora said, forcing a smile. She was tired.

Dr. Waters smiled. "Do you want to schedule for another session to include some other family members?"

"Not right now," George answered politely, clashing with Derek's firm, "No, thanks."

"I'll call if we need to. Thank you for your help and patience, I think we're…" Nora trailed off, "Well, we have somewhere to start."

The family left the room, gathering the two siblings waiting for their return, and headed home.


	22. Chapter 21

"Could have been worse," Derek said, as he started the drive home.

"George seems…better." Casey agreed, "I'm glad it helped things between you."

He glanced at her. "Nora's okay, too, Case."

"Hopefully," She wasn't convinced, "She just looked so upset when she realized I was lying to her."

"I know something that'll cheer you up," Derek suggested.

"What?" Queried the girl, not entirely out of her thoughts.

"I am formally appointing you," he responded, "with the task of planning our first official date night. Tomorrow's Friday, and they _did _say we got extended curfew, right? Great argument for that, by the way, I never thought to include travel time as a reason."

"Well, if we're supposed to keep it quiet in this town, we can't just go anywhere, we have to go farther than that. George walked right into that one." Casey said, shrugging.

But there were other topics to discuss. "Onto the more important subject: pick the place? You almost never let me do that." She raised her eyebrow.

"Pick a place. I'll go, no matter how many old people happen to be in attendance or whoever it is you usually hang out with. Come on, you know you're getting excited just thinking about making an itinerary," Derek said, watching the smile cross her face.

Whatever boring museum or performance art thing she had in mind, it was worth it for that.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Casey chose to keep date night a surprise, no matter how much he pestered her. At one point, he had said the phrase "date night" enough times to realize that he had become one of those lame guys that _used _the term seriously.

She simply told him to make sure there was enough gas in the tank and that she would take care of the rest. Whatever that meant.

Derek told Sam what she said, and asked him to decipher what she could possibly be up to.

"I understand Casey less than you do. How would I know?" he asked, "How did that…session go?"

Telling Sam about how it went was something he had been debating, but he realized trying to act okay with it all for Casey was getting difficult.

"Basically, we have to keep sneaking around like we always did but pretend we're honoring their moral code to preserve the denial that keeps them sane. Casey got us an extra hour on curfew, though."

Sam looked pensive. "So…you're allowed to do whatever you want?"

"Well, no, if we did, Nora would have a conniption, and she checked my bedroom in the middle of the night last night, saying something about floorboards. Which was probably a lie, but we'll be on our best behavior until she relaxes and then it'll be sorta back to normal, I think."

His friend looked at him with a frown. "I don't envy you at all, dude. It's got to be easier for me to sneak into some other girl's window at this point."

Derek shrugged, watching Casey say something to Emily and laugh.

"Does she even know about you and Casey?" Sam asked, finding the pair of girls he was looking at.

"Emily? No. Nora's sensitive about the issue."

"Wait, what?"

"Doesn't want us to act like a couple, around here. She has this fear everyone's going to shun us and Lizzie and Ed and I dunno, I think she needs a chill pill. I'm trying to pretend to be fine with it, in case you didn't notice. Casey's not handling her so well right now." Derek muttered, rolling his eyes.

"That's..." Sam trailed off. He'd always thought of Derek's stepmom as pretty nice, maybe a bit awkward at times, but generally well-meaning. He figured she meant well now too, but couldn't wrap his mind around her logic.

"A little neurotic? Yeah, I know." He agreed, wondering if Nora would ever truly come to terms.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"I still don't see why you can't just tell me where we're going," Derek maintained, watching Casey drive with the zest of an elderly woman.

"I said it's a surprise and it's staying that way. I think one of Marti's activity books is in the back."

"Are you honestly suggesting I entertain myself with something designed to challenge a child?" He asked Casey indignantly.

"Yup," she responded, popping the last syllable with her lips.

Rolling his eyes, Derek fished out the book and a crayon in the cupholder. Opening the page to a crossword puzzle, he read aloud, "Four letters, name of a baby cow." Scoffing, he filled in the boxes.

Half an hour later, as Casey pulled into the parking lot of what appeared to be a simple bookstore, Derek had completed five pages in the activity book and was currently content coloring a picture of a dog.

"Come on," she said, "we're here."

"A…bookstore." He observed. A real surprise.

He felt her take his hand from the car, leading him past the main entrance and toward the side, where a large and rather menacing man eyed them suspiciously.

Casey, never one to be deterred, smiled eagerly and handed him two tickets, the stubs traded back and snatched by the same hand before he could grab one.

The large man gestured to let them in.

Inside, there were a number of booths, each draped with a poster indicating its purpose. Every poster had the symbol of a hockey team. Derek, for once, was dumbstruck as Casey pulled him past the tables to the one she knew he really cared about: the Maple Leafs' Nathan Clemson, Jersey 25.

"Case," He said finally, "this has been sold out for…for over a year. How in the…"

She gently shuffled him over to the line, swallowing a giggle at his surprise. "I brought this, too," she said, opening her purse, revealing a Leafs jersey, "to get it signed."

"Have I told you I love you today?" Derek asked, taking the jersey in his hands.

"Mm, don't think so."

"I love you, you mystical ticket-finding goddess. Seriously, how did you even pull this off?"

Casey shrugged. "I knew a guy, who knew a guy, and may have had to sell a kidney."

"I know you're kidding but please don't ever sell your kidney for anything less than four tickets to something like this," he responded, leaning in to kiss her.

"I'll keep that in mind," she replied solemnly, watching the photographers take pictures with fans.

"I don't see how we'll get to the booth before we have to leave for curfew, though," Derek said, furrowing his brow.

Casey shrugged, "Okay, I'll own up to it, I might have asked George if we could have an exception this time if I brought him back a signed photo. He said yes, of course."

"Well," he said, "Consider me quite surprised, McDonald."

It took an hour of waiting in line to finally reach the booth, and the hockey player smiled at Casey, teeth impossibly white, sporting a short blonde buzz and hazel eyes. She gave him the photograph, told him to address it to George, and stepped behind Derek.

"Derek Venturi. You a hockey player too?" The man asked, signing the jersey carefully.

"Yes. For Thompson High." He confirmed.

"I think I heard about you, knew a college scout at the game. Scored the winning shot for the final game, didn't you? Impressive." Nathan commended him, handing him the jersey.

"Thanks," Derek managed, whilst looking flabbergasted.

The athlete waved him over for the picture, standing beside him.

Casey caught his eye, and he gave her a crooked grin, motioning for her to come forward. She did, taking the place beside him, her hand clasped with his, and the shutter flashed.

They left the building, smiles still on their faces, the cool air a welcome change compared to the stuffy building inside.

"Did you tell him to say that?" he asked, "about the game?"

"No," Casey said, shaking her head, "That was all you."

"Well," he said, "Just lucky, that's all."

Derek drove on the way home, still a little starry-eyed, she could tell.

Casey looked at the Polaroid of them together, smiling softly. It would be her favorite picture of him for quite some time, because it was the happiest she'd ever seen him.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

George waited for them at home, like a kid on Christmas Eve.

When they arrived, he grabbed the both of them in a bear hug, and watched as Derek held up the jersey in admiration. Casey gave him the picture, and left the two to talk about the events of the night, joining her mother as she watched.

"What did you get?" Her mother asked curiously, spying the Polaroid tucked in her hands.

"Oh, it's just…" Casey trailed off, as her mother took it and looked closer.

To her surprise, she laughed. "He looks just like George. So happy." She glanced over at her daughter, still hesitant, and said, "You do too."

"I am," she said softly.

Her mother wrapped an arm around her. "That's all I want, Casey. For both of you."

"You're not mad?" Casey asked quietly.

"No," Nora murmured softly, watching the two Venturis animatedly converse across the room, "I'm not mad. Just promise me…if you need me for anything, you'll say so."

Casey nodded. "I promise."

Meanwhile Derek was beginning to plot.

"So, where are you taking her next week?" George asked, following his stare, "Going to be a hard one to top."

"I'm thinking…" he glanced over with a half-shrug, giving him a hesitant smile, "…that new art museum we saw in the paper Saturday?"

"That's a three hour drive," he looked at him sternly, but broke the expression to smile and whisper, "but yeah, you're right, she'll love that."

"_Maybe _you love me enough to lend me fifty bucks for the tickets?" Derek suggested.

"You mean Casey," George corrected him, "for that picture. Don't tell Nora."

"You're the best, dad." He said, hugging him briefly, flashing him another big smile.

"No, you're not getting extra money for gas."

Derek sighed. "It was worth a try."

"All right, I'm off to bed." George finally said, "Don't stay up too late."

"Sure," he replied with a salute.

"Good night, Derek," Nora said, a knowing look in her eyes. _Remember the rules. _

"'Night." He replied with a nod, watching her disappear into their bedroom.

Casey sighed as she sank into the couch.

Derek followed her cue, leaping over the back to sit beside her.

"So," he murmured, "everybody seems happier."

"Looks like it." She agreed.

Derek glanced at the family portrait on the wall. "Do you think picture-Nora will mind if I kiss you good night?"

"Mm, not sure. But I'll mind."

"Hm, can't have that." He murmured, and leaned in, pressing his lips against hers.

Pulling back, he sighed. "Good night?"

"My turn," she responded, pulling him close enough to return the favor.

_A girl had to bend the rules sometimes_, Casey thought.

Derek kissed her back, smiling at the way she responded to him.

Then Derek's phone buzzed, and a moment later, Casey's.

The two teens pulled apart, sharing knowing glances as they picked up their phones.

Derek read aloud, "Kiss is singular, not plural, Derek. Feet on stairs now. GOOD NIGHT."

Casey followed up with, "What George said. Love you! PS Derek remember you have to mow the lawn tomorrow."

"Lovely," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes, "Perfect grammar and synchrony. They're obviously working together with the portrait. This is unholy."

Casey stifled her smile and led him up the stairs.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Fin._


	23. 04-16-14: Update!

Update:

First off, thank you for reading this story and please review if you haven't already!

For those interested in Lizzie's perspective, I have started a companion fic to this that titled _Where the Lonely Ones Roam_.

Summary: _Lizzie has more than a few secrets, and she's found it's a lot harder to keep them when you don't have two siblings waging war as a distraction. Pairings: Some Dasey; undecided for Liz, reader input welcomed (potential femslash). TW WARNING: Contains content related to eating disorders, will get dark at times._

Central characters: Lizzie M., Casey M., Derek V., Edwin V. and Erica Mason (an OC referred to as Kendra's little sister).

This story is Lizzie-centric, conveying Lizzie/Edwin friendship only. Though it references events in Give Up, Give In, and therefore will contain some scenes of Dasey. It is not, however, a true Dasey story like the one it references.

As mentioned in the summary, I am a little less sure of myself with this fic and where it should go, so if you read and like it, and have your preference, please let me know! I can't decide.

Thanks again! :)

-R.


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